Death's Dare
by greenconverses
Summary: After an attempt on her life, Apollo decides Rachel needs a bodyguard and who best to fill that position than a certain son of Hades? Too bad they're not going to make things easy for each other, especially when it comes to their feelings. Rachel/Nico.
1. The Assignment

**Author's Notes:** Welcome to my latest project, the epic Rachel/Nico romance fic! Yes, the summary and the title are supposed to be a little romance novel-esque, and the content of this fic will get steamier in later chapters, so please take the "M" rating seriously if you're not old enough to read this. Rachel/Nico is my pet pairing, but _The Last Olympian_ kind of put the kibosh on it with the whole Rachel-as-the-Oracle thing. This is my way of fixing it, and I hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

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**Chapter One: The Assignment**

"He's going to be my _what_?"

Usually, Rachel Elizabeth Dare's acidic glares could make grown men whimper and run screaming from the room. Even her father, who had once stared down the President of the United States and made _him _blink, had been known to back down once she turned the evil eye his way. But the two grown men – well, almost grown in one case – sitting across from her in the restaurant booth remained cool and unaffected by it. Probably because they'd been on the receiving end of glares from furious mortal women for the last few millennia.

Stupid, immortal Olympians.

"Rachel, babe," the younger man said, adjusting his aviator sunglasses and leaning back against the padding seating in the booth. The waitress passing by did a double take and almost spilled her tray on the neighboring table. Rachel really hated going anywhere with Lord Apollo when he was in his hot, teenage model form. "I'm only looking out for your best interests. I can't be around to protect you all the time, and since locking young maidens in distant temples isn't _en vogue_ any more, this is probably the best option for you."

"I don't need anyone to protect me. This is the twenty-first century and I've taken more than my fair share of self-defense classes," Rachel said venomously. She was probably the only person (except Artemis) who could get away with such a tone around him; Apollo adored his Oracle far too much flash fry her.

The older man next to Apollo snorted in amusement. He was exactly the opposite of the other god in both looks and tempermant, with his crisp, dark suit and slicked back hair. He could've passed for Apollo's father if he really tried, but Rachel didn't dare tell him that because she liked not existing as a pile of dust, thank you very much. They made a bizarre combination, for sure, and she wasn't sure what had caused them to team up to come and talk to her beyond the obvious reasons.

"Because your mortal self-defense classes will serve you _so well_ the next time a monster tries to jump you on the subway. You were lucky this time, Oracle Girl, and I would know better than most," Lord Hades replied, matching her glower with a cool, self-assured stare.

Really, the two of them were blowing this out of proportion. She'd known that monster had been following her for ten city blocks, and she'd just had to wait until it snuck up on her to give it a good stab in the stomach with her Celestial bronze dagger. It hadn't been a very big monster either; nothing like the ones she'd seen during the Battle of New York.

"One monster attack in the last seven years is not bad enough to warrant a 24/7 bodyguard," she said, reaching for her glass of lemonade. "You know, you should've asked my dad about the time he tried to get a bodyguard for me in second grade. That didn't work out so hot."

As she sipped from her straw, she noticed the two gods exchanging a look. Rachel didn't have to be an Oracle to understand what _that_ meant.

"Please don't tell me monster attacks are going to be a new trend for me because this is _not_ what I need while I'm finishing my senior showcase and applying for grad school."

"Fine. We won't tell you, will we, Apollo?"

Apollo ignored the other god, and pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. His eyes were unusually serious.

"We on Olympus have reason to believe that someone is trying to kill you, Rachel, and that monster was only the beginning," he said. "We're not sure who it could be at the moment because plenty of our old enemies have come out of the woodwork to challenge us since Lord Kronos fell, but they're not going to stop until they have you out of the way. You haven't seen anything, have you?"

Rachel shook her head, sitting back in the booth. She was sure she would've remembered prophesying her own doom in recent days.

She wasn't shocked by this, not at all. To be truthful, she was a little surprised that it had taken this long after the Battle of New York to get on some sort of immortal hit list. Percy and Annabeth had been fighting monsters in the mortal world constantly since then, but she hadn't heard a peep from the enemies of Olympus.

"But why me? I'm an _art _major, for cripe's sake."

"They kill you, we don't have an Oracle, and very bad things happen," Apollo said matter-of-factly. "You're like our early alert system. You get taken out and we're pretty much fighting blind. No heroes go on quests, no tips and tricks, no nothing. You understand why we have to up your security now?"

Rachel sighed and nodded reluctantly. She supposed she should've been grateful that her duties as the Oracle of Delphi hadn't conflicted with her mortal life as much as they could have in the past seven years. Yes, she had to spend her summers at Camp Half-Blood, but that wasn't exactly a death sentence and it definitely got her away from her father's watchful eye. She'd lived a rather normal life since she became the vessel of the Oracle, and there was some part of her that was itching for a change.

"All right," she sighed, giving in. "But why does it have to be _Nico_? Can't I have a Hunter or someone?"

Hades stirred in his seat. "Do you have a problem with my son, girl?"

"Besides the fact that he's a boy and boys are off-limits for the Oracle?"

Truthfully, Rachel didn't know all that much about Nico. She'd seen him hanging around Percy at Camp Half-Blood and heard some of the stories about him, but she'd rarely talked to him alone during their time at camp. He was younger than her and was a bit of a dweeb if their one conversation about MythoMagic was to go by anything, but other than that, she had nothing to pass judgment either way.

"We're making an exception to rule in this case," Apollo said hastily, as if he could sense Hades's growing ire. "Lord Hades owes me for putting the curse on my last Oracle – "

"Bah," Hades said, waving his hand dismissively, as if dooming a young girl to a horrible fate as a mummy in outdated clothing was a trivial matter.

" – and who could be a better bodyguard than someone who can see death coming? Besides, his kids are known to be pretty asexual anyway. Something about being around death all the time that kills off the sex drive, plus they're not the most attractive people in the universe…no offense meant, Uncle. I don't expect to have any problems with him."

There went the last excuse she had to avoid getting a bodyguard. She was sure the two gods wouldn't be moved by tears, and she wasn't desperate enough to pull that card.

"I suppose I'll have to make my couch ready for habitation. When can I expect him?"

"He's in Italy at the moment with some of his mortal relations. I told him what was expected of him, and he should be arriving sometime tonight," Hades said, and then he frowned. "And surely you can afford better accommodation than a _couch_. He's _my _son, not the brat of some low-class minor god with limited talents."

Rachel sighed. If Hades's attitude was anything to judge Nico by, she was in for a long, exhausting term.

**-o-**

After her lunch with the two gods that morning, Rachel decided to spend some time with her normal friends in the Village. Well, normal in the sense that they were mortals, because her friends were definitely not normal in any other sense of the word. They'd have to be pretty weird to hang out with her on a daily basis anyway, what with all the random prophesy spewing moments she had.

She'd thought about visiting Percy and Annabeth first to tell them the news, but she figured they'd hear it from Nico eventually. Besides, the last time she'd visited without advanced warning, the two of them had been otherwise engaged in the bedroom, and lately Percy had been looking at her like he wanted to know the answer to when he should propose to Annabeth and Rachel did not want to be caught spewing lines about poetry about _that_.

She and her friends were gathered around a table at an outside café – Jenna and Monique were arguing about the latest political stunt while Angeline was listening to them with one ear and a Podcast on surrealism in the other. Rachel was just trying to catch some last minute summer sun when a shiny black and silver motorcycle pulled up to the curb. The rider, wearing a black helmet and faded leather jacket, glanced over at their table and killed the engine.

A prickle of awareness ran down Rachel's spine, the same kind of prickle she got when she could feel a monster nearby or a gap in the Mist. She pulled her sunglasses away from her eyes and pushed them up into her hair to get a better look at this person. Whoever the rider was, he didn't look like any sort of monster she could remember, but then again, they usually didn't at first glance.

The rider got of his motorcycle and walked toward them, reaching up to take off his helmet. Jenna, Monique, and Angeline had also noticed him and fell silent, their full attention on the biker.

The helmet came off, revealing a familiar scowl, dark eyes and messy brown hair. It took a moment for Rachel to recognize him, and when she did, her jaw dropped.

He definitely wasn't the awkward little kid she remembered from Camp Half-Blood. He was tall – taller than Percy and with a broader chest that his gray t-shirt stretched over nicely. His black jeans, slung low on his hips, hugged his long legs like they had been made for him and the boots on his feet completed whatever badass look he was trying to go for.

"Oh my god," Jenna, who had a thing for bad boys, whispered. "Hottie, dead ahead."

If Apollo thought Hades's kids were unattractive, he apparently hadn't gotten a good look at Nico recently. Rachel fought off a growing blush as he approached her and said in a deep voice she wasn't expecting, "Rachel Elizabeth Dare?"

He had a bit a scruff on his face, and a jaw line that she'd kill to sketch in several positions. The only thing that hadn't changed about him was the intensity of his eyes.

"Yes?"

He stuck out his hand. He was wearing fingerless biking gloves and a tarnished skull ring.

"Nico di Angelo."

Rachel took his hand, and felt a different sort of prickle going up her spine. Not of fear or revulsion, but the slightly unfamiliar prickle of attraction.

Oh, this was going to be a problem. A _big _problem.

**-o-**

Nico di Angelo was fucked. Big time.

When his dad had appeared at his aunt's villa in Italy a few days ago and demanded that he get his skinny, ungrateful ass back to Manhattan so he could guard Apollo's Oracle, Nico had been less than thrilled. Hades had elected to (mostly) stay out of Nico's business since he turned eighteen, and Nico had gotten used to his freedom and had been tempted to tell his dad where he could shove his crazy demands.

Then again, Nico rather liked not being dead, and this was probably the easiest request his dad had ever thrown at him. Protecting the Oracle from monster attacks? Cake compared to talking Cerberus for a walk, interning with Charon for the summer, or surviving a Christmas dinner with Demeter and Persephone without being turned into a blooming plant.

He didn't remember who the Oracle was until he pulled up outside the street café where she was hanging out with a bunch of mortals, and it took him exactly a second after laying his eyes on her to realize how many ways to Sunday he was fucked.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

During his early teenage years, Nico'd had an enormous crush on Rachel. It had something to do with the way she threw blue plastic hairbrushes at Titan Lords, had enough confidence to tell her over-demanding dad where to shove it on a daily basis, and was generally a pretty nice girl to everyone she met. Plus, she was cute, but totally off-limits due to the whole being four years older business. And that Oracle thing too, he supposed, but he really hadn't understood the limitations of it at the time.

It didn't stop his crush on her, though, because it was completely harmless. Nico had been terrible with girls then – still was in some aspects, actually – and the only time he had ever gotten up the courage to talk to her by himself, he had talked to her about _MythoMagic_, of all things. The look on her face had made him want to crawl under the nearest rock and disappear.

It was after that point that he'd realized how pointless going after Rachel was. Not only couldn't she date, but he definitely was her type of guy. She had been after _Percy_ – all-around American teen guy – before she became the host of Delphi. Nico was nothing like Percy now, despite all of Annabeth's grumbles to the contrary, and certainly hadn't been anything like the hero of Olympus when he had been fourteen and going through growing pains.

And then there was his problem of being the son of the god of death, which put the kibosh on most romantic liaisons – except for with girls who were totally into the death scene and some really crazy Europeans he'd encountered during his year overseas.

Even though his crush on Rachel had never really gone away, Nico hadn't expected it to come roaring back at the sight of her sunning herself at the café table. She wasn't pretty – she was _gorgeous_.

Her creamy white skin glowed in the afternoon sunlight, and her long red hair was as bright as a flame. Her lips were full, pink, and utterly kissable, and she had still had the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks that he'd always found absolutely delectable. It didn't help that she was wearing a blue tank top that clung to her soft curves or a short skirt that showed off her long legs too. He could already imagine –

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was _not_ good. He was supposed to be her mature and capable bodyguard, not some twenty year old kid who couldn't keep it in his pants for more than a minute.

Nico took a deep breath, prayed that the sudden tightness in his jeans wouldn't be visible, and got off his bike. Rachel's eyes didn't flare in recognition until he took his helmet off, and then she got a weird expression on her face, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Nico hoped his dad had at least told her that he was expected otherwise this was going to be one awkward exchange.

One of her friends leaned over to whisper something to her, but her green eyes were only concentrated on him for once. He stopped in front of her and held out his hand; he wasn't sure why he felt the need to introduce himself. It wasn't like she didn't know him, after all.

"Nico," Rachel whispered, and the sound of her voice made his knees just a little weak. "Um…hi. I – I wasn't expecting you until later."

She probably hadn't been expecting him to ambush her in front of her mortal friends, but Nico's timing had sucked for all but one event in his life. She was lucky he hadn't popped into her apartment while she was showering –

Oh gods, if he wanted to last a week in this job, he _had_ to stop thinking of her naked.

"Sorry, my…flight got in early," he said, and that was more or less true. "I probably should've called at first."

"No, no, it's fine. I'm just finishing up here, and we can go back to my place – "

"Rachel," the short blonde and pink haired girl across the table said, leaning forward and batting her eyelashes. "Who is your cute friend?"

Nico couldn't help the flush that flooded his cheeks. He still wasn't used to girls – especially older girls – paying him any attention that wasn't met with a wrinkled nose and a huff of disgust, and his usual quick tongue got tongue tied pretty fast. He noticed the two other girls at the table were eyeing him like a piece of meat for sale, and it was making him vaguely uncomfortable, but in a good way.

"Jenna, this is Nico di Angelo," Rachel said, gesturing at him as she picked up her cup and reached for the bag slung across the back of her chair. "He's going to be living with me for a while."

"What, like _living_ living with you?" one of the other girls blurted out, her eyes going wide. "Oh my god, Rachel. When did you get a boyfriend?"

"I'm not – "

"He's not my boyfriend," Rachel replied shortly, glaring at Nico as if this was entirely his fault. "He's a kid from a camp I used to go to who needs a place to stay for a couple of months, all right? Gods know I have more than enough space at my place."

Nico couldn't help but feel a bit slighted by her tone. Of course, she would still think of him as an annoying little twelve year old – that's probably he'd ever be to her, except maybe as the annoying bodyguard she didn't want around. It wasn't like he _wanted _to come back to New York to babysit her either; she could at least be grateful that he was going to keep her predictive ass safe for the next few weeks.

"Whatever you say, Rachel," Jenna said with a laugh. She turned her gaze to Nico. "If you need another space to share, Nico, my place is more than open. I love the Italians."

"Um…okay," Nico said, earning himself another laugh from Jenna as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

Rachel stood abruptly, shifting her bag onto her shoulder.

"Bye girls. Call me about going for a bar run later this week, all right?"

Rachel didn't wait for their reply and grabbed Nico by the arm, whirling him back around toward his bike. Nico glanced over his shoulder and waved at the three girls, who giggled and ducked their heads together. The red head at his arm gave an insistent tug.

"Don't pay any attention to them," she said. "They're miserable flirts."

"Like they'd want to date me now. 'Just a kid from camp'? Lame," Nico said, glancing at Rachel. "Couldn't you have at least said I was your demigod bodyguard of death? It sounds much more exciting."

"Unfortunately, my friends don't know I'm freakish enough to warrant a demigod bodyguard of death, so you're going to have to live with being a brat from camp," she paused and glanced at his motorcycle. "Do I really have to ride _that_?"

Nico bristled. His motorcycle was pride and joy. It was a vintage Harley he'd rescued from a scrap heap, and had spent two years rebuilding and customizing with some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Didn't she know how hard it was to make inanimate objects as large as a motorcycle shadow travel and look this good at the same time?

"Better get used to it. This is going to be your primary mode of transportation for however long I have to be here," he said, swinging himself onto the bike. He noticed she was eyeing the skull he had airbrushed onto the side, and grabbed her wrist as she reached out to touch the glittering ruby eyes. "I wouldn't touch those if I were you. They're cursed."

Rachel snatched her hand away from his as if he had burned her. "Do I even want to know why you have cursed rubies on your bike?"

"Keeps the thieves away," he said with a shrug. "They were a birthday present from Persephone. I think she was hoping I wouldn't know what they were and would put myself in a coma for twenty years. I'm starting to think she likes me a little better."

"And here I thought my family was messed up. You demigods always known how to show a girl up," Rachel sighed, eyeing the bike again critically. "So how do I get on this thing?"

"Right leg first. You can put your hand on my shoulder if you need to balance," he directed, turning to watch her get on. He made sure to keep his eyes focused on her face and not on the skirt that was inching higher up her thighs as she moved. He felt her settle behind him, shifting until she got comfortable. "All right. Now, make sure your feet are on the foot pegs and not anywhere near the muffler – just a little to the left there, okay, you've got it."

"I'm not going to fall off this, am I?" she replied, looking squeamish. She reached back to tie her hair behind her head, and Nico admired the long line of her neck for a brief moment.

"Nah. Just hold onto my hips and lean when I lean, and you'll be fine," he said, handing his helmet to her. "You'll probably need this too. I don't have an extra yet, so it might be a little big."

Rachel slipped the helmet over her head without complaint, adjusted herself on the bike once more, and then reached out to put her hands on him. Nico repressed a shudder as her fingertips brushed against a section of bare skin between his jeans and t-shirt, and nearly jumped out of his skin when she pressed up against his back after he started the engine. It figured the first girl on his bike in months would be both hot and completely unavailable.

If this was any indication of how the rest of this assignment would be going, he was so, so screwed.

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Thanks for reading! Chapter Two will be up soon.


	2. Frustrations

**Author's notes:** Thank you all for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I'm glad to see so many other Rachel/Nico fans out there! I was hoping to get this chapter out a bit sooner, but my laptop decided to take a dive last weekend and I've been with limited computer access throughout the week. Updates may become a little less frequent as college begins in a few days, but I'll work as hard and as fast as I can to get new updates out to you!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

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**Chapter Two: Frustrations**

"I am never getting on that – that rolling death trap again!"

"It wasn't _that_ bad – "

Rachel whirled around, and shoved the helmet into Nico's stupid, but incredibly well-formed, chest. She glared at him, but he hardly looked affected by it and calmly leaned back against his bike. Of course she'd get the one boy on earth who wasn't affected by the Look as a bodyguard.

"You know, there are these things called _traffic laws _that we mere mortals are expected to obey so we don't get ourselves killed on a daily basis. I think you just violated all of them and some that don't even exist yet!"

Nico shrugged. "What's that saying? Rules were meant to be broken?"

"Not when you're going 75 miles an hour and weaving through Midtown traffic with me on the back!" Rachel shrieked, her voice echoing in the parking garage. Her cheeks flooded with the color she'd left back in the Village when she'd gotten onto that demon bike, and Nico smirked at her. Rachel's knees did not appreciate the effect his smirk had on them.

"Oh, come on. You know you enjoyed it, Dare."

If he wasn't so damn tall, she'd wipe that smirk right off his face. She hadn't enjoyed it, not one iota, and she usually liked dangerous stuff, so long as it wasn't the clinging to dear life in a falling helicopter type of dangerous, which riding on a motorcycle with Nico certainly was.

All right, so maybe she'd enjoyed the rush of the ride when they first got moving, but that was before Nico zoomed around his first bus and narrowly avoided getting his head taken off by a mirror. And maybe, just maybe, she liked the way Nico's muscles flexed and tensed underneath her hands as he rode, but there was no way she was telling him that.

Instead, she huffed at him and said, "You're supposed to be my _bodyguard_, kid. The only way you'll get me on that again is if you drive five miles an hour, you demigod psychopath," before turning and marching toward the elevator across the garage.

She heard Nico sigh loudly, and his bike creaked as he got up to follow her. His long strides had him caught up to her in no time; she could feel his eyes on her as she walked and it made her flush even more. She shoved the elevator call button in hard, and crossed her arms over her chest, willing herself not to look at him. Because if she looked at him, she'd have the to fight the urge to deck him or do…something else, something she wasn't entirely comfortable thinking about.

"This looks like some posh digs for a college student," Nico observed dryly, and she knew he had to be looking at the row of BMWs nearby.

"Yes, well, I stayed in the dorms for a semester when I was a freshman. Then some dumbass had to go and get himself stabbed at a party, and my dad threatened to yank the funding for my tuition if I didn't move into the stupid apartment he bought for me so I would be 'safer.' More like so his trust fund buddies could spy on me, and so he could drop in unannounced whenever he wanted."

He laughed. "Mine likes to pull the same thing, although I don't think yours pops out of the shadows with a burst of hellfire and a compliment of skeleton guards when you least expect it."

Rachel shuddered at the thought. Hades had been creepy enough at lunch a few hours ago when he had been acting like a mortal; she couldn't imagine him in full-blown Lord of Death mode, let alone as a _father_. Then again, the thought of an Olympian as any sort of parental figure usually blew her mind, especially when it came to Lord Apollo, who always seemed to be in unnatural flirt mode whenever he was around her.

"I bet he would if he could," Rachel muttered as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open without a sound. She and Nico stepped in, and she fiddled for her keys before placing a small silver one in the slot next to the button labeled 'PH.' She turned it, pressed the button, and the elevator began to move. "Remind me to give you a copy of this later. You'll need it to get in and out."

Nico's blurred reflection shifted in the metal of the elevator doors, but Rachel was most decidedly not looking at him. If she didn't have to look at his handsome face or his ridiculously built body on that damned motorcycle ever again, she'd be the happiest girl on earth.

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will. There are only two ways to access my apartment, and the elevator is the one that involves less walking and frisking by bored security guards."

"Only two access ways for you, you mean."

He forgot to add "you silly mortal" at the end, but she understood sentiment all the same. Rachel could _hear_ the smirk in his voice.

"Unless you got bit by a radioactive spider since I last saw you, there's no way you're getting onto my floor without a key."

"We'll see."

Demigods were so damn frustrating! They were all alike, with their cryptic comments and willful refusal to do anything _normally_. Rachel ground her teeth, and dug her fingers into her forearms as the elevator jerked to a stop. She was out of the elevator as soon the doors slid open, and walking down the hall toward her door. Nico's boots clomped on the marble tile as he followed her.

"Do you have any neighbors?"

Rachel didn't answer, reaching for her strand of keys again and pausing in front of her door. She fiddled with her key ring as Nico came up behind her, and hovered over her shoulder. She was hyperaware of how close he was to her, and the treacherous part of her mind was beginning to create some crazy scenarios involving Nico, herself, and her door, and if she didn't find that key soon –

Aha! Rachel smiled triumphantly and stuck the key in the lock.

"I wasn't expecting you until later, so sorry if the place is messy," she explained as the tumbler clicked, and she swung the door open. "If you'll give me a second, I can have most of it cleaned up."

"Holy _shit_!" Nico exclaimed as he crossed the threshold after her. "This is an _apartment_?"

Rachel was pretty used to this reaction from first time visitors upon seeing her living space, but it still managed to embarrass her every time. This penthouse wasn't her; it was her father through and through, from the lofty ceilings right down to the china plates in the cabin. She had hoped to get away from him and his influence during college, but aside from that brief, blessed year in the dorms, she hadn't succeeded at all.

Nico was currently gaping at the sunken living room filled with plush, leather couches and chairs, a fireplace, and a giant flat screen TV with surround sound. The wall opposite them consisted of all glass windows and a door leading out to the terrace where there was a fabulous view of west Manhattan – the view was one of the few things she actually liked about her father's cage.

"No, I guess not. It's a $3.5 million penthouse," she said heavily, hopping down and tossing her bag onto one of the sofas. "Three bedrooms, four bathrooms, a full-sized kitchen with a dining room, a study, and various other smaller rooms plus a terrace with a hot tub and roof access to the pool."

"Holy shit," Nico said again, leaning forward to gawk at the TV. "And this is all for just _you_?"

The tone of his voice made her uncomfortable. She would've been perfectly fine with a hole in the wall somewhere closer to her college, but that wasn't an acceptable living arrangement for the Dare heiress. In fact, going to school for art instead of becoming an empty-headed trophy wife for some investment banker was hardly an acceptable living arrangement in her father's opinion.

"It used to be one of my family's other places, but my mom wanted something less…modern for their twentieth anniversary. My dad didn't want to sell the thing when the market was so bad, so he gave it to me," she replied, shuffling some papers on the coffee table. She always had excuse herself so her friends would know that she didn't want this and that she wasn't a spoiled brat. "So yeah. It's just for me."

"You must get lonely."

Rachel paused, and glanced up from her shuffling. Nico had his hands in his jacket pockets and was watching her carefully. She noticed there was no pity in his eyes, only understanding, and that's what made her answer honestly instead of denying his statement.

"Yeah. Sometimes I do."

She held his gaze for a moment longer. Maybe having Nico around wouldn't be so bad after all.

She turned and waved at him over her shoulder.

"C'mon. I'll give you the grand tour and show you your room. Hopefully you won't have to slay any dust bunnies or anything."

**-o-**

Nico tried to school his face into an impassive expression while Rachel took him on a tour of the rest of her penthouse, but it got harder with each room they passed in and out of. He almost lost it completely at the sight of her flawless, gleaming kitchen with the marble countertops, glass covered cabinets, and high priced appliances, and that was before he saw her home gym and got a look from the terrace.

He wished his dad would buy him a place this nice – or care enough to even have a room for him ready in his palace in the Underworld. But the moment he had crossed the threshold of the penthouse, he had gotten the feeling that this wasn't _home_ for Rachel. Most of the rooms were dusty and the furniture looked as if no one had ever sat on them; the living and dinning rooms felt like impersonal show rooms. The only places that looked like they had been lived in the last few years were the kitchen, Rachel's studio, which was a messy blur of color and giant pieces of canvas, and Rachel's room, which she had let him glance in before slamming the door shut and directing him to a set of doors just down the hall.

"This is the second biggest room in the place. You've got your own bathroom, plus balcony access," she explained, pushing the dark oak doors open. "So if you need a quick getaway, Mr. I-Don't-Need-Keys, you can always scale down the building."

"You don't have a balcony, do you?"

"Yes. Is that going to be a problem?"

Nico thought about it briefly. His father had given him very few details beyond, "Apollo's dratted Oracle is being targeted by our enemies and you need to keep her from dying a nasty death if that's within your limited talents," but he had said whoever was after Rachel wasn't desperate enough to attack her in her home. Yet.

"_Once they find out about you, that will all change. Instead of the prize going to whoever kills the Oracle, it will be given to whoever kills the son of Hades guarding the Oracle. So keep your head down and stay unnoticeable for as long as possible if you don't want to die miserably,"_ his father, ever a ray of Olympian optimism and sunshine, had said before he had disappeared from his aunt's villa. _"And comb your hair before you disgrace your house further, you miscreant."_

Besides that, her apartment was up pretty high. Nico would probably sense something amiss by the time something managed to climb the building or fly onto the balcony. He'd have to see about setting up some traps just in case though. It wouldn't hurt to be cautious, after all.

"Not right now," he replied, glancing around the room. He had to do a double take, just to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was. "All of this is for me?"

His bedroom was three times the size of the little room he'd been staying in for the last few months in Italy and almost twice as tall, so he was in no danger of knocking his head on the ceiling any time soon. A large bed with a black and white bedspread was pushed against one wall, and a flat screen and desk against the opposite wall.

Rachel nodded, crossing the room and throwing open the window drapes to let in the orange glow of the setting sun. Nico tried to ignore the way the sun brought out the gold in her hair, and turned his gaze to examine the bed as she turned around.

"The closet's over there, so you should have enough space to set up surveillance equipment or whatever you're going to use to keep track of me," she said and he glanced up just in time to catch her small smile. "By the way, where's you stuff? I didn't notice if you brought bags in or not."

"I dumped them off at Percy's place before I picked you up," Nico replied, flopping on the bed to test the comfort level. He sank into the mattress and had to repress a pleased moan; it was like laying on a piece of heaven. "I should go and get them soon. He doesn't like it when I use his living room as a storage bin without his permission."

Rachel leaned over him, her hair dangling attractively over her left shoulder. If there was anything worse than a good-looking girl, it was a good-looking girl who had no idea just how damn good-looking she was and what kind of effect she had on any male in her general vicinity.

"Don't tell me my demigod guardian of death is going to get his ass kicked by my demigod best friend for breaking and entering before he even starts his job," she said, smirking at him.

Nico rolled his eyes, and propped himself on his elbows.

"Percy wishes he could kick my ass. Just 'cause he's invulnerable doesn't mean he's…" Nico trailed off, suddenly realizing how close his last movement had put him to Rachel. Their lips were just a few sparse inches apart, and if he angled his head just right –

Thankfully, Rachel seemed to realize this at the same moment he did and moved her head just enough to remove the temptation.

"What were you saying?" Rachel asked, looking a little flushed.

"Oh. Um…nothing," he replied, sitting up. "I'll go get my stuff in a few hours. It's not dark enough yet."

Rachel arched an eyebrow.

"Is this one of those demigod things that I don't want to know about?" she held up a hand as he opened his mouth. "Never mind. I'd rather not know in case it's something incriminating. I'll just leave you to get settled. If you get hungry, there's plenty of food in the fridge."

Nico nodded, watching silently as she walked to the double doors.

"See you tomorrow," he said, and she gave him a little wave as she shut the doors behind her.

As soon as she was gone, Nico threw himself back on the bed and cursed out loud.

He had to get this…this _attraction_ under control if he wanted to be an effective bodyguard; most bodyguards didn't spend more time analyzing the shape of their subject's lips than how they were going to protect said subject, after all.

Maybe it would get better in the morning, when he wasn't so tired and distracted from shadow travelling, and Rachel had a case of bed head and morning breath.

"Yeah, right," Nico muttered, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over his head so it would muffle his frustrated howl.

**-o-**

When Rachel awoke the next morning, a part of her was thoroughly convinced that the idea of an incredibly attractive but completely off-limits demigod bodyguard living in her guest room had been the rather pleasant dream of a lonely young woman who liked her fantasizes. She was still entertaining the idea when she walked into the kitchen for her morning cup of coffee and was immediately confronted with the fact that indeed, there _was_ an incredibly attractive but completely off-limits demigod living in her guest room.

Except he wasn't in her guest room at the moment. No, he was in the kitchen with his back to her, cooking something on the stove.

Shirtless.

Rachel stared for a full moment, made a noise that sounded rather like, "Blargle," and ducked out of the kitchen before he could notice her.

She leaned against the hallway wall, willing herself not to hyperventilate. All right, so she had just seen Nico di Angelo shirtless. It wasn't _that_ big of a deal. She'd seen plenty of shirtless guys before – it was rather hard _not_ to when you lived on a coed dorm floor – and had been able to go about her day-to-day routines without freaking out like a complete spaz. Why was her reaction to Nico so different?

Possibly it was because he was the best looking shirtless boy she'd ever seen, the hormone addled part of her brain supplied unhelpfully. Most demigods, she knew, had killer bodies from all the training they did and Nico was no exception. Rachel liked backs and shoulders, and Nico's back was absolutely, mouth-wateringly perfect with lean muscles and gorgeous definition. If he looked that good from behind, she couldn't wait to see –

No.

No, she wasn't going to be _perving _on her twenty-year-old bodyguard. She wasn't supposed to be perving on any boys anyway. She was the Oracle of Delphi, dammit. She wasn't going to lose her head over some stupid muscular demigod just because he was cooking eggs shirtless.

Speaking of which, who on earth cooked _eggs_ without a shirt? He was practically half-naked! Did he not have any shred of common decency? She would never do such a thing if their roles were reversed. It wasn't like _she _was in the habit of walking around her huge apartment in her underwear because she didn't have any roommates to offend, after all –

Rachel glanced down at herself, and had to bite back a shriek of horror. She'd forgotten to throw on a t-shirt before she'd left her room, and she dressed only her bra and panties…and they weren't even a nice, matching pair! Oh gods, what if Nico had seen her like this? She would have died from the shame…or because Apollo might've looked in at that very moment, assumed they had done something bad based on their state of undress, and flash fried her for breaking her vows of maidenhood or whatever.

She scurried back to her room, growing angrier by the second as she snatched her kimono off her desk chair and pulled it on. What was Nico thinking? Was he even thinking at all? Didn't he know what the slightest hint of impropriety could do to her?

The rational, sane side of her brain said that she wasn't pissed about the shirtless business because it could ruin her reputation – she was pissed because he was showing off what she couldn't have.

"Right," Rachel muttered to her reflection, tying her kimono tight and making sure it covered her from the neck down. "Like I'd want Nico di Angelo, even if I could."

She repeated that to herself once more, even though she didn't really believe it, and marched out of her room, determined to give Mr. di Angelo a piece of her mind.

Even though she had steeled herself for shirtless Nico, she really couldn't help the way her mind went to pieces when she entered the kitchen again. He was no longer at the stove, but seated at the breakfast nook and eating his eggs. Rachel now had a perfectly lovely view of his chest and it was even more wonderful than his back.

"Mornin'," he said, waving lazily.

Rachel responded to this perfectly nice greeting by proceeding to bite his head off.

"Do you think you could put a shirt on?" she snapped furiously, walking over to the coffee pot, which was thankfully on the other side of the kitchen. "I don't need to see _that_ so early in the morning."

"What exactly is _that_?" Nico replied, sounding both confused and taken aback.

"_That_ refers to your…your general shirtlessness!" she said, reaching for the coffee container and snapping off the lid.

"It's just my chest, Dare. It's not a big deal."

Not a big deal? Not a big deal? Did he even know what he was talking about?

Rachel turned and gave him a fierce glare to go with her accompanying snarl of, "Go. Get. A. Shirt. _Now_."

Nico held up his hands in surrender.

"All right, all right!" he said, scooting his stool back and getting to his feet. "How about I just go throw on a turtle neck to save you the hassle of staring at my bare arms too?"

"Whatever," Rachel said as he went stomping out of the kitchen and down the hall. His door slammed shut, and their first week together only went downhill from there.

**-o-**

"Dare," Nico drawled, hanging over the back of the living room sofa and eyeing her warily. She glanced up from her sketchbook, and Nico hoped whatever crazy had inhabited her this morning had disappeared for the moment. "We need to have a chat about your pantry organization."

"What's wrong with my pantry organization?"

"You have twelve bags of opened chips in the cupboard, three of which are Cheetos bags with just a handful left in each of them."

"So sue me for occasionally forgetting that I have a bag open when I open another one. I don't see what the problem is."

"The problem is that you have twelve half-eaten, stale bags of chips taking up room in your cupboard. There's no reason for it, especially if you're not going to eat them!"

"I do too eat out of them!" Rachel replied, and Nico arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "All right, maybe they are a little old – "

"Good," Nico interrupted, pushing off the sofa and heading toward the kitchen. "I'm tossing them then."

He heard the slap of Rachel's sketchbook against the leather of the sofa, and she got to her feet.

"Nico di Angelo, I swear if you so much as touch my pantry, I'm going to – to – Hey! Get away from my cupboards! I have a _system_, dammit!"

**-o-**

"Ow!"

Rachel hopped onto one foot, grabbing for the heel of the other foot that was stinging in pain. She glared at over her shoulder at the demigod standing almost directly behind her.

"Sorry," Nico replied, although he didn't sound too apologetic. "You should walk faster."

Nico had insisted on "discreetly" following her on her walk to one of the little convenience stores a couple of blocks away, and so far, he'd done a terrible job with the discreet aspect.

"Why don't you take a couple of steps back instead of breathing down my neck? I know you're supposed to guard me, but invading my personal space is going a bit too far!"

"You say that now, but when it saves your life…"

"I think I'd rather be dead than have you tromp on my heels every five seconds," Rachel muttered as she hobbled forward. "Ow! You did that on purpose!"

**-o-**

Was it bad that everything Rachel did was starting to get on his nerves? Nico had never had a roommate besides his sister for an extended period of time and he knew brothers and sisters were supposed to drive each other crazy, but he didn't think a roommate was supposed to drive him nuts within a few days of having moved in.

She was just so – so frustrating, for various reasons. Whether it was the week's worth of dirty dishes piling up in the kitchen sink that she refused to do because the maid did it every Friday or the way she scoffed at all the security measures he had put in place or the way she twisted her hair when she was nervous, Nico was getting thoroughly annoyed with Miss Dare.

Today, his main problem was the way she kept tapping her leg when she was sitting down. He didn't know what caused it – nervous energy or some sort of weird tic – but whenever she was at the dinning room table, one of her legs would just bounce up and down at a rapid pace for no reason at all. Something like that _shouldn't_ annoy him, but seeing that movement out of the corner of his eye was driving him fucking insane. If she kept that up any longer, he was going to do something rather unpleasant.

Rachel got up from the table, and Nico let out a brief sigh of relief. But then she sat back down and her leg got right back to that anxious tapping. Gods be damned, how he was supposed to read if that leg of hers kept jiggling like that?

"Could you stop doing that?" he demanded at last, unable to take it any more.

Rachel looked at him, a confused expression on her face.

"Doing what? Breathing?"

"That – that tapping thing!" he exclaimed, gesturing at her. She glanced down at her leg, which stopped tapping almost immediately. "It's bothering me. So will you knock it off?"

"No," Rachel said defiantly, sweeping her bangs out of her eyes. "Not until you stop chewing your nails because that bothers the hell out of me."

Nico glowered at her, and spent the rest of the evening biting at his fingernails just to spite her.

**-o-**

"Oh my gods," Rachel said as she walked out on the terrace the next afternoon. "What in Zeus's name are you _doing_?"

Nico's handsome, grease smeared face popped up from behind his motorcycle. She didn't even want to know how he had gotten that thing up to her penthouse without anyone noticing or without getting tire tracks on her nice cream carpet.

"What's it look like I'm doing, Dare?" he replied, exasperated. That seemed to be his favorite tone to address her with ever since their various spats over the week. Rachel had no idea living with another person could be so taxing. And she was supposed to put up with this for next couple of months?

"It looks like you're getting bike grime all over the terrace tile," she said stiffly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do you have any idea how much those tiles cost?"

Not that she cared about the tile being scuffed up or stained by oil, but it was the principle of the matter. Nico was a guest in her house and he was supposed to treat her things with respect; he clearly hadn't learned his lesson with the pantry (which he had managed to empty, despite her screaming and shouting at him) and she had to show him he couldn't walk all over her.

"I'm just replacing a few parts," he said, standing up. He had grease all up and down his bare arms, and his chest hugging white tank top was dirty as well. It was almost as bad as him wandering around shirtless (which he had done _again_ this morning, just to piss her off). "I'll clean it up when I'm done."

"That's not the point," Rachel said, and Nico's brow furrowed in confusion. She clarified, "_Ask_ me before you do something like this again."

"Why should I have to ask?"

Rachel let out a strangled scream, and whirled on her heel, marching back inside before the urge to rip his shirt off of him and do something _really_ dirty on her tiles was overpowered by her urge to strangle him.

**-o-**

"WILL YOU TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN? MY GODS, IT SOUNDS WORSE THAN THE WAILS OF TORMENTED SOULS – AND I WOULD KNOW!"

"GO TO HADES, DI ANGELO! THIS IS MY STUDIO AND MY PAINTING TIME AND I'LL LISTEN TO WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT TO!"

"NOT WHEN IT'S THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING, DARE!"

"GO SLEEP OUT ON THE TERRACE WITH YOUR DEMON BIKE IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT! YOU TOUCH THAT STEREO, AND I'LL – I'LL GET PERCY TO KICK YOUR ASS BACK TO THE 1930s!"

"I'D RATHER BE THERE THAN HERE WITH YOU!"

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

Doors slammed simultaneously, and the uneasy week dragged on.

* * *

**Next time on _Death's Dare_:** Nico and Percy have a chat about Rachel while Annabeth and Rachel have a night on the town to improve a certain Oracle's spirits.

Thanks for reading, and please review.


	3. Boundaries

**Author's notes:** I'm rather pleased with this chapter, mostly because I wrote it in two days and 5,000 plus words in two days is a remarkable achievement. This chapter was so much fun to write, it almost wrote itself and for that, I am thankful. I can't guarantee the next chapter will be up as quickly as college starts for soon for me and I'm still without a personal computer, but I'll work as quick as I can. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You all are so amazing.

Also, since someone asked in the reviews, once again, this fic is rated "M" mostly for some explicit sexual situations that will crop up in later chapters, but also because of language and references to alcohol, sex, violence, etc. All the characters in this fic are in their early 20s, and therefore some of content is fic will reflect their age. The first couple of chapters will be rather tame, but things start to pick up in this chapter, especially in the language department. Hope that clears everything up!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Boundaries  
**

"I am going to kill her."

"That rather defeats the purpose of you being her bodyguard, doesn't it?"

Nico picked up his head from where it had been buried against Percy's scratched and worn kitchen table. His friend was leaning back in his chair, a familiar, concentrated look on his face – Percy Jackson was trying not to laugh and was failing miserably.

"I hate you," Nico said, slamming his head back down onto the table. "I hate you so fucking much."

"Oh, come on, Nico," Percy replied. "You haven't seen me in a year, and this is how you treat me? I feel so loved."

"Maybe I'd love you more if you had warned me that your best friend was a psychopath. I can't believe I thought she was _normal_ all these years. She had to be crazy to even think about being the Oracle in the first place."

"Rachel's not _that _bad."

Nico looked up from the table and stared at Percy in disbelief until the other boy shifted uncomfortably and said, "All right, so maybe she some annoying and slightly crazy quirks. Has she listened to Tuvan throat singing at full volume during the middle of the night yet?"

"Is that what that was?" Nico didn't ask why Percy knew what kind of music Rachel played in the middle of the night. Questioning Percy's devotion to Annabeth was rather pointless as those two were still as ridiculously in love as they had been for the last seven years. It'd take something bigger than Rachel Elizabeth Dare to tear them apart. "I've had nightmares set to that music for the last two nights. She's insane."

"She's artistic."

Nico rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair and propping his feet up on the table. At least Percy wasn't going to scream at him for ten minutes for putting a scratch into his table with his boots like Rachel had. For someone who claimed to be apathetic about how her nice things were treated, Rachel sure could shriek when he so much as touched something expensive in her apartment.

"If that's a nice way of saying we should have her committed, sure, I'll go with it."

Percy narrowed his green eyes at him. Nico knew he was probably pushing some buttons by trashing Percy's best mortal friend, but the last week with Rachel had not left him with a good impression of her. And for some bizarre reason, he was _still_ attracted to her like crazy, no matter how nasty or exasperating she had been to him. This bodyguard job was turning out to be the most frustrating experience of his life.

"Like we're ones to talk. I mean, I'm the freak who can't be hurt and you're the freak who can summon the dead," Percy replied tensely. "Rachel's weird, but at least she's not making her skeleton minions follow _you_ around the city."

Nico groaned, and ran a hand over his face. _That_ had been an incident that had not gone over very well and had actually led to several dishes being thrown at his head. In fact, it was also the reason he was over at Percy's place and Rachel was out with Annabeth – they probably would kill each other if left unsupervised together much longer.

"She told you about that?"

"I was there when she called Annabeth. She was so furious, I could hear her screaming from across the room."

Percy's expression had turned from Your-Misery-Amuses-Me-Please-Continue to his This-Is-No-Longer-Amusing-And-I-Might-Have-To-Kick-Your-Ass-Now scowl. Annabeth often said the second was his "heroic" look, but it only inspired a heighted level of terror in Nico.

"It wasn't like I _wanted_ to do it, but how else am I so supposed to protect her when she tries to lose me every time we go out in public? Did she tell you she got me thrown out of a club the other night by telling the bouncers I was sexually harassing her? Which I was most certainly _not_ doing, by the way," he said, catching Percy's darkening look. "She didn't even tell me where she was going that night! I'm lucky if I notice her leaving at all, so that's why I set the skeletons up to follow her. Now she just thinks I'm being creepy and misogynistic and a whole bunch of other fun vocabulary words that are impressive but I have no idea what they mean, when all I'm trying to do is keep her safe. I don't think she realizes how much danger she's in."

Percy leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

"Do you even know how much danger she's in?"

"See, that's the thing. I don't think anyone really knows who's behind this – or if the gods know, they'd rather us bumble around like idiots first before telling us what's going on. My father said it was some 'old enemies' of Olympus, and that's a pretty long list to go through," Nico explained. "For all I know, it could be some bitter Titan, a pissy minor god, or maybe even one of the primordial deities."

The older man shuddered at the thought, and then rose from his chair.

"I think I'm going to need a beer to get through this discussion," Percy said as he took a few strides over to the small refrigerator and opened it.

"If I knew what I was up against, maybe I wouldn't be so paranoid about her safety, but I'd rather be a nuisance than get her killed because she doesn't want to be inconvenienced," Nico continued as Percy rummaged through the fridge. "Do you have anything stronger than beer? I need something that will make me forget this week ever happened."

"Who said I'm giving you anything?" Percy said with a teasing tone. "You're still underage, and I don't want to get caught for contributing to a minor."

"Fuck you, Jackson. My birth certificate says I'm old enough to be your grandfather, and if you don't give me some alcohol, I'm really going to do something to make your neighbors call the cops."

Percy grinned at him and said, "How I've missed your foul mouth and threats of death and dismemberment, Nico. And sorry to disappoint, but all we have is beer."

Nico groaned miserably, his feet falling from the table to the floor.

"Just toss me whatever you have then. I don't care if I have to drink thirty cans of shit American beer, I just need to get drunk."

"That's probably not a wise thing to do, considering you're still going to have escort Rachel home at the end of the night."

"Fuck," Nico said, and his head returned to the surface of the table. "It's like she exists to ruin my life!"

**-o-**

"I'm telling you, it's like he exists to ruin my life!"

It wasn't the first time Rachel had had to shout that over the music at the bar tonight, but that might've been because she was more than a little inebriated. She usually wasn't much of a drinker, preferring to let everyone else make fools of themselves while she watched from the sidelines instead, but she'd had her fair share of shots the moment she and Annabeth had walked into the bar.

"Here," Annabeth said, slapping another shot glass full of something clear in front of her. "Have another one. It'll make you feel much better."

If someone had told Rachel eight years ago that Annabeth Chase would one day be one of her best friends, she would've laughed in their face. But once they'd stopped feuding over Percy, they'd actually found out they had a lot in common and got along extremely well in social situations. Percy was still slightly horrified that the two most terrifying women in his life were best friends, mostly because he believed they plotted ways to make him miserable when they got together. Which wasn't true – most of the time.

Annabeth was much more drunk than Rachel; she was getting giggling and balancing precariously on her bar stool. Out of all of them, Annabeth had the worst tolerance for alcohol. It took a lot to get Percy drunk, but when it happened, it hit him hard and fast, so Rachel had been able to drink him under the table several times and was quite proud of that fact. Nico, however, seemed like he'd have a strong constitution so he might be a challenge –

At the thought of that demigod menace, Rachel threw back the shot and winced as it burned its way down her throat.

"Ugh, that was some shit liquor," she said and Annabeth nodded in agreement, her grey eyes closed in concentration. "You okay?"

"Fine!" she replied, opening her eyes and smiling sloppily. "I'm just thinking about how much more I need to drink, that's all."

"I don't think there's enough alcohol in the world to fill my needs right now," Rachel said. "I told you he wants to follow me to class, right? I mean, as if I'm not the biggest freak in the art department as it is, he wants to add a stalker on top of all that."

"Well, NYU is almost halfway across the city from your place. He can't do his job if he's not nearby, Rachel. And you don't want to die, right?"

Rachel still had the mindset that this whole, "People are trying to kill you!" thing of Apollo's was a slight overreaction on his part. She hadn't seen any sort of monster or dangerous looking thing since the attack on the subway, and she knew Nico didn't know anything more than she did. She only hoped Apollo realized he colossal mistake before she got on Hades's bad side for murdering his son.

"I don't have a problem with him hanging around on campus or anything, but he wants to follow me into the classroom! How would you like it if Percy was following you around to class and watching who you're hanging out with and stuff?"

Annabeth's face darkened at the thought of it. "You're right. I'd kick his ass if he even thought about doing something like that. This madness must be stopped."

"I know, right? This would all be so much easier if he wasn't so damn good looking – "

The blonde girl snorted into her other drink.

"Wait, wait, wait, back up a second here," she said, holding up a hand. "Did I just hear you say that _Nico_ is _good looking_? We're still talking about the same son of Hades, right?"

Rachel moaned and put her head in her hands. She hadn't meant for that come out – damn the alcohol for loosening her lips like that! – and now Annabeth was never going to let her hear the end of it.

"I'm not saying another word."

"Oh, come on! You can't say something like that and not tell me anything else!" Annabeth reached across the space between them and shook Rachel's arm. "Come on, Rachel! I'm dying to know over here!"

The unfortunate thing about getting Annabeth drunk was that was usually the only time she ever wanted to do "girl talk." She was worse than a boy when it came to talking about her feelings when sober, so everything always came out after she had a few drinks. They'd broken up Rachel's complaining about Nico with Annabeth's worries that Percy was never going to propose to her and a whole host of other issues she'd never let out otherwise.

"Fine, but you have to swear not to tell Percy a single word of this conversation," Rachel said, leaning forward on her barstool to whisper to Annabeth. "Because I know he'll tease me about it forever."

"Forget about Percy. _I'll _tease you about it," Annabeth replied with a drunken giggle. "I still can't believe you think _Nico_ is hot. This whole chastity thing must be making you deseperate."

"When's the last time you saw him?" Rachel asked defensively. She knew there was nothing wrong with her taste, even though she'd wished there was during the last week. It was a depressing fact of life: Nico was devastatingly attractive.

"Oh…probably my last year of camp, I suppose. I know he stayed with Percy for a while, but I was always in Boston when he was around," she replied, taking another sip of her drink. "I just remember him being very short…and very pale…and pimply."

"Well, he's none of those things now," Rachel grumbled, not-so-secretly wishing there was something wrong with him. "He's practically – and you cannot laugh when I say this – godlike now, I swear. And Apollo told me all Hades's kids were unattractive – puhlease."

"Is he better looking than Percy?" Annabeth whispered.

Rachel had to think about it. Even though her crush on Percy had been long dead and buried, she still could admit that he was good looking. He and Nico both had that classic athletic thing – tall, slender, and fit – going on, and they had similar coloring with the dark hair and tan skin. She supposed they'd share some similarities, considering they were first cousins and all, but Rachel found Nico to be the most attractive out of the two…probably because he was the available one.

"In a different way. Nico's got that dangerous air about him that Percy just doesn't have, you know? I suppose that's why he drives me crazy because I like dangerous stuff. Sometimes."

"But you can't – I mean, with the chastity thing and everything – "

"Oh, believe me, I know. But I can look, can't I? Besides, even if I could, I wouldn't want to do anything with _that_ prick. He's personality flaws pretty much kill whatever limited attraction I have for him."

Annabeth's grey eyes were watching her carefully, analyzing her like she was one of her blueprints and she was looking for some kind of flaw in the design. Rachel looked away from her and downed the last of her beer, unsettled by her gaze.

"You know," Annabeth said slowly as she drank. "I think part of the reason you might be mad at Nico is that he doesn't return the attraction."

Rachel had to control the urge to spit out her beer all over the bar.

"You've got to be kidding, Annabeth," she said, staring at her friend in shock. "I'm not – he's not – I could care less about whether or not he finds me attractive! He's an insensitive wart and – and – oh my gods, I can't believe you think that! It's not true at all!"

"Me thinks the lady doth sputter in protest too much," Annabeth said with a sly smile. "You want Nico di Angelo to think you're cute!"

"I think we need more to drink if this is the direction our conversation is heading," Rachel said, signaling the bartender over again.

**-o-**

"So, tell me," Percy began as he cracked open his sixth beer. Nico was still nursing his second, and stared at him jealously. "How much of your problem with Rachel stems from the fact that you think she's hot?"

Nico was thankful he wasn't drinking anything at the moment otherwise it would've gotten spewed all over Percy's furniture.

"What? No. No! That has nothing to do with that."

Percy looked skeptical.

"So you don't find Rachel attractive in the slightest?"

"It's her _personality_ I have a problem with, Percy, or were you not listening to the last two hours of my rantings and ravings?"

"You're avoiding the question," Percy replied with a grin and wagged his finger in Nico's direction. "You think Rachel's hot! Just admit it already. It's not like I'm going to go blab to her about it."

Nico grit his teeth and looked at the ceiling so he could avoid seeing Percy's triumphant smirk.

"I think she's fucking gorgeous, okay? I'd have to be completely dead not to be attracted to her. Which, despite popular belief, I'm not."

"Ah," the older boy said sagely. "That's probably the root of your problem right there: Unresolved sexual tension."

"No way. I admitted Rachel was pretty, but there is absolutely no sexual tension between us. At all."

Usually, Nico was a fairly convincing liar, but either Percy was determined to make him miserable tonight or it was painfully obviously that he was lying through his teeth. More likely, it was a combination of both as Percy never failed to try and create misery in his life.

"C'mon, Nico. You're telling me you haven't at least thought of doing Rachel at least _once_ this entire week? And that she hasn't thought about doing the same thing to you?"

This time, Nico _did_ spit out his drink, although it didn't do much more than dribble down his chin. Percy laughed, and Nico furiously wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

"Rachel hates me, Percy. I doubt she thinks about me naked, let alone…that other thing."

"Does she bite the inside of her cheek whenever she's around you for a while?" Nico thought about it, recalling that happening during several arguments throughout the week, and nodded reluctantly. "That means she's trying distract herself from kissing you. She used to do that around me all the time."

"When she was _fifteen_."

Percy shrugged. "People don't change their habits that much. So if she's biting the inside of her cheek, then you know she's interested in you."

"Or that's she's trying to hold back a scathing tirade about my family history and personal hygiene," he replied, trying not to acknowledge that Rachel could possibly be attracted to him because that would open a whole different can of worms that he didn't want to deal with. "All right, let's just go along with your crazy theory and say that we're both attracted to each other. You know we can't do anything together – "

"Exactly!" Percy exclaimed, leaning forward and jabbing his finger on the table in emphasis. "Its unresolved sexual tension, I'm telling you. You're both upset because you can't have sex with each other, so you take it out your frustrations out by arguing and getting in fights all the time. That's always a big problem when you have a roommate you're attracted to. Trust me, before Annabeth and I started having sex – "

"Oh gods, I don't need to hear this," Nico interrupted, putting his hands over his ears. As much as he liked Percy, he hated hearing about the other boy's intimate relationship with Annabeth because it was like listening to his older brother talk about these sorts of things. Nico would acknowledge that his sex life did exist, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear the dirty details about it.

" – we drove each other insane when we were living together that summer before college. I mean, living with another person usually takes some getting used to anyway, but I personally think living with someone that you want is a lot worse," Percy continued, pausing for a moment to chug from his beer. "You and I argued when we lived together, but it was over stupid stuff like where the remote disappeared to and stuff. It's nothing like what I argued about with Annabeth or what you're experiencing with Rachel, right?"

Nico nodded, finding that there was some truth in Percy's explanation. Percy hadn't nearly driven him as crazy as Rachel had been, and they'd settled their serious arguments by beating the crap out of each other. But the difference between Nico and Rachel and the other two was that arguing was like foreplay for Percy and Annabeth. He and Rachel liked to argue because they genuinely pissed each other off, and because they didn't have much in common to hold a civil conversation over.

"What's your solution then? We obviously can't settle our problem how you and Annabeth do, and I know Rachel isn't going to take kindly to the way you and I settled disagreements."

"Boundaries," Percy said in a reverent way, as if that one word held all the answers in the universe. "You have to make a list of boundaries. Like when Annabeth's over, I can't interrupt her during Jeopardy and she can't rearrange my sock drawer. Once you talk about what annoys you, it becomes easier to avoid doing it."

"That sounds…easy enough."

It did, but he didn't know how boundaries were going to solve his attraction to Rachel. It wasn't like he could ask her to stop being pretty, after all.

"Oh, _and_ I wouldn't follow her to class," Percy added. "Rachel's very independent and there's nothing she hates more than someone encroaching on her independence. You're never going to get on her good side if you remind her of her dad."

Nico had figured as much. Perhaps it would be for the best if he sat down and talked about security measures with Rachel from now on. It was her life he was guarding, after all, and she should have some say in how it would be guarded. Provided she wanted to talk to him, after everything that had happened between them.

"Thanks for the advice, Perce – "

"I told you to stop calling me that!"

" – do you know what time it is?"

Percy made a grab for his cell phone just as it began to ring. Almost all monsters east of the Mississippi River knew were Percy lived, so owning a cell phone wasn't as dangerous for him as it had been in years past. Nico was deeply amused to discover that the ringtone was set to "Under The Sea" from _The Little Mermaid_ though. Percy caught him laughing and grimaced.

"It's Annabeth's ringtone, all right? She gets mad every time I change it because she thinks it's cute," he made a gagging face and flipped his phone open. "Hello? Hey, Wise Girl. You done for the night?" Percy paused to listen to his girlfriend on the other end. He rolled his eyes and mouthed, '_She's drunk_,' at Nico. "Yeah, yeah, we can come pick you up in a few. We'll be outside waiting, all right? Yes, I love you too. See you in a bit."

He snapped his phone shut as Nico drained the last of his beer. He set the can on the coffee table and crushed it with his flat of his palm.

"Nice," Percy said, getting up from his armchair and setting his own can on the kitchen counter. "You're going to have your hands full tonight. If Annabeth was slurring her words, I don't want to imagine what Rachel's going to be like."

"Great, a drunk Dare. That's exactly what my week was missing," he said, rising from the sofa and wiping his hands on his jeans. "Who are you calling now?"

"A cab," Percy replied, dialing a number. "Duh."

"We don't need a cab," Nico sighed in annoyance, walking over and grabbing Percy's upper arm. "Come on, into the shadows we go."

"Wait, Nico – shit, you know I don't like shadow traveling when I'm _waaaaasted_ – !"

The rest of Percy's complaint was lost in the darkness and the howl of the wind.

**-o-**

When she and Annabeth walked out of the bar (walked was actually too kind of a word for what Annabeth was doing, draped all over Rachel like she was) a few minutes after her phone call to Percy, the men were already waiting for them like they'd said they would. Except Percy was leaning over a garbage can and emptying his guts into it, and Nico stood by, looking amused.

"Shouldn't have drank so much, huh?" Nico said smartly.

Percy mumbled something that sounded like, "I hate you _so_ fucking much," before ducking his head back into the garbage can.

"Well, if it isn't the mighty hero of Olympus and his sidekick, the Dead Boy Wonder," Rachel exclaimed loudly as they wobbled over to the men. Rachel wasn't nearly as drunk as Annabeth, but she was rather close. "Come to save us from the perils of consuming alcohol, I suspect?"

"Dare," Nico said, acknowledging her with a sardonic smile. He glanced at the other woman next. "Annabeth. Long time, no see."

Rachel watched as Annabeth's eyes bugged out at the sight of Nico, and she gave the boy a very obvious once over.

"Rachel was right. You did get hot," Annabeth slurred, letting go of Rachel and walking over to her boyfriend. "Seaweed Brain, can't I take you anywhere in public without you throwing up?"

"Excuse me for not having a stomach of steel," Percy replied, finally resurfacing from the garbage can. He wiped his chin on his sweater and then wrapped an arm around Annabeth's shoulder. "C'mon, let's get out of here and call a cab before crazy over there decides to shadow travel us to the Underworld without warning. Hi Rachel. See you, Rachel."

"Try not to kill him!" Annabeth added merrily.

"You're welcome!" Nico shouted at their retreating backs, and Percy gave a weak wave over his shoulder. Then they were around corner and out of sight, leaving the two of them alone.

The tension between them had dispersed a bit, but Rachel was still furious with Nico and she was wiling to bet his anger had not abated either. But she decided it was best not to get into a fight with him when she was drunk; she might say something she didn't mean to.

"I see the demon bike is no where in sight. Are we planning on walking?"

"That's the plan, unless you're as uncoordinated as Miss Chase was. Then walking a few blocks back to your place might become an adventure."

Rachel sniffed at him, determined to prove that she still had all her coordination and it was still in prime condition, and started walking in the direction of her apartment. She only stumbled when she got to the street corner, and Nico caught her and pulled her back just before she tumbled in front of a moving car.

"Guess not," he said with that insufferable grin of his that made her heart flutter.

She hated that he had this affect on her, and that she loved the way his arm felt wrapped around her waist or the way his fingers were caressing the skin of her wrist. Damn it all, how was she supposed to stay mad at him when every single cell in her body was screaming at to kiss him already?

"Rachel," he said, snapping her out of her trance. She directed her eyes away from his lips. "Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you back to your place?"

She scoffed, pushing his hands away and straightening herself.

"No, I'm perfectly capable of – _shit_!"

It was at the moment the last bit of alcohol she had guzzled at the bar decided to kick in, and her head started to spin rapidly. She leaned against a parked car, willing herself not to pull a Percy and heave her stomach onto the pavement.

"You're sure?" Nico asked, amused.

"All right, all right. Carry me if you like, just – just stop standing in two places at once, okay?"

Nico laughed and squatted down beside her. Wordless, she clambered onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and setting her legs near his waist. He stood up, gripping the backs of her thighs in his hands and started walking down the street.

"Aren't you worried about me strangling you?" she asked after they had walked in silence for a little while. Her chin was resting on his shoulder, and her lips were right by his left ear. "I've been tempted to do it all week, you know, and now I've got you right where I want you."

"Nah. You won't."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Because then you'd be out of a free ride home and you'd have to stash my body somewhere inconspicuous. You'd never manage it."

"I can be very crafty when I'm drunk. You have no idea."

"I wouldn't put it past you, Dare."

It struck Rachel as rather pathetic that their first somewhat civil conversation in days had to come about because she was drunk and incapable of doing anything except talking. But it was rather hard to summon righteous indignation while he was being nice to her and giving her a piggyback ride through the Upper East Side. If only her father could see her now…

"So, did you really tell Annabeth that you think I'm hot?" he asked, taking it upon himself to break the silence this time.

Rachel groaned and closed her eyes. She should've known he wouldn't have missed that part of the conversation.

"I cannot be held accountable for what I did or did not say under the influence of alcohol," she replied primly.

"That's a yes, then?"

"I'm sure you and Percy talked about much more fascinating things than what Annabeth and I discussed," Rachel said, trying and failing to change the subject smoothly. "So spill, Dead Boy. Did Percy say when he was going to propose to Annabeth yet?"

"No," he said, turning down a different street. "We talked about boundaries."

"Boundaries?"

"Yeah, you know…we're supposed to air our grievances and make up some rule so we don't annoy the fuck out of each other from now on."

"Like no sending skeleton soldiers to follow me on the way to the grocery store?"

She could feel Nico's shoulders tense under her.

"And no going to the grocery store without telling me?"

Rachel rolled her eyes skyward. "Can this wait until morning? I would only like to address my grievances while sober."

"Whatever you say, Dare."

"Why are you still sober, by the way? You must be, if you were talking about _boundaries_."

"I'm on the job 24/7, remember? I can't guard your ass if I'm tripping over my feet and telling my friends how cute I think my demigod bodyguard of death is."

Rachel balled up her fist and whacked him in the shoulder. He laughed – something she wished he'd do more often. He always looked so sad and angry all the time, and, even if she didn't want to admit it, it kind of broke her heart…mostly because he reminded of her of herself, and she had no idea how to fix that.

Rachel closed her eyes and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. She felt safe and content clinging to Nico's back as they walked in the dark, and although she wondered how much of those feelings were caused by the alcohol, she wanted it to last as long as possible.

She must've dozed off for a few moments because the next thing she remembered was her elevator dinging as it reached her floor. She stirred on Nico's back, but he didn't let her down until they were inside and in the hall by her bedroom door.

"Thanks," she said, looking up at him. Without thinking about it, she reached up to brush a stray curl of hair out of his eyes. "You know, you're not half bad when you're not being a childish little prick."

"And you're not too bad when you're not being a stark mad raving lunatic," Nico said, patting her on the shoulder. "Good night, Dare."

"Night, di Angelo," she murmured, watching him walk down the hallway before ducking into her room.

**-o-**

_Screetch. _

Rachel had only just fallen into a very light slumber when she heard it.

_Screetch._

Groggily, she raised her head from her pillow, wondering what on earth could be making that noise. Nothing in her room made any sort of noise like that. She heard it again, just a little bit louder, and decided the sound was coming from her balcony door.

Some kind of warning was trying to get through the drunken haze of her mind, but she ignored it as she threw her covers off her bed and stumbled over to the balcony.

_Screetch._

She drew back the curtain, and the misshapen black shadow scraping at her window glass glared at her with glowing red eyes.

_Screeeeeetch._

Rachel screamed.

* * *

Thanks for reading, and I appreciate your reviews.

**Next time on _Death's Dare_:** Nico gets serious about Rachel's security, something they both can agree on.


	4. Visits

**Author's notes:** Sorry this took a little longer than the others to get out. This was a difficult chapter to write, mostly because I had to hit a lot of plot points, and I'm still not very happy with it. At least every scene in this chapter has been re-written two to three times, but I had to get it off my computer before I completely destroyed it. Thanks for reading and reviewing the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Visits  
**

Rachel screamed and stumbled backward, the curtain falling from her hands and hiding the horrible creature from view. She tripped over her feet and fell to the floor, knocking her elbow on her desk as she went down.

Ignoring the brief pain and regaining her senses, she began clawing at the drawers of her desk, trying to find the Celestial Bronze dagger that she had shoved away a couple of days ago. Any second that thing would break through the glass and – and –

"Rachel."

She screamed again and whipped around. Nico was crouching beside her in the dark, his hair tousled and face lit by the cool, silver glow from his drawn sword. He was just wearing a pair of jeans, but his shirtlessness was the least of her concerns. She hadn't heard him come in; it was almost as if he had appeared in the shadows beside her.

"There – there's something – " Rachel whispered, petrified. Unable to finish her sentence, she pointed a shaky finger at the balcony door.

Nico nodded and rose silently. He motioned for her to get behind the other side of her desk and she did so as quickly as her shaking limbs would allow. She resisted the urge to shut her eyes as Nico raised his sword and pulled back the curtain –

"There's nothing here, Rachel."

"What?"

He drew the curtain aside so Rachel could get a clear view of the entire balcony, which, much to her shock, was devoid of any demonic creatures with glowing red eyes.

"B – but it was there! I didn't imagine it, I swear!"

The demigod said nothing as he lowered his sword to his side. He paused as something caught his eye and then his shoulders tensed.

"There's something out there."

In a moment, Nico was on the other side of the balcony door, staring into her room from the outside. Rachel gasped in surprise. How had he done that? Could Nico travel through solid objects, like a ghost?

He motioned at her through the glass. "Will you turn the light on?"

Rachel stood, and flipped the switch to the outdoor light. Nico and the balcony were fully illuminated, revealing streaks of red liquid that had been splattered over the glass. Dread filling her stomach, Rachel glanced a little lower and blanched at the sight of the shredded, bloody mess that had been dumped at the base of her door.

She covered her mouth with her hands and gagged, feeling her terror and the alcohol catching up to her at last. She hurried to her bathroom, fumbling to lift the toilet seat up in the dark, and then retched the contents of her stomach in the bowl.

She flinched as she felt hands brush the base of her neck, but it was just Nico, crouching beside her and pulling her hair away from her face. Distantly, Rachel thought it was rather nice gesture on his part, but then the image of the bloody _thing _swam to the front of her mind and she heaved into the toilet again.

"You okay?" Nico asked after a little while, once she had stopped vomiting and had leaned forward, resting her forehead against the edge of the toilet.

"No," she said, her shoulders trembling. She felt Nico's hand hover awkwardly near the middle of her back, like he wanted to comfort her but didn't know how. "No, I'm not okay. What kind of stupid question was that?"

Born from her terror and exhaustion, her question lacked any serious bite and came out sounding more scared than sarcastic like she had intended.

"Sorry," Nico said simply, his hand finally settling between her shoulder blades. "I just…don't think you get asked that a lot, that's all."

Tears pricked Rachel's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She'd already let Nico see more of her weaknesses than any other person and she wasn't going to allow him to see her completely lose it.

Hadn't they just been at each other's throats at the start of the night? How did this stupid boy go from being the biggest prick in the world to being a sensitive, honest human being in the span of mere hours?

"I'm fine," Rachel said slowly, pulling away from the toilet and sitting back on her haunches. She glanced over her shoulder. It was hard to see Nico in the darkness of her bathroom, but she noticed his brow was furrowed with worry. "But thank you for asking."

Why did Nico have the special ability to see what she had been hiding from everyone else, even Percy and Annabeth? And why did the fact that he did see these things make her chest ache so fiercely?

**-o-**

Nico was an idiot. A grade-A fucking idiot.

He wasn't supposed to let monsters get close enough for Rachel to scream. If she saw them before he did, then she was as good as dead.

How could he have let some kind of monster get that close to Rachel without sensing its approach? Had it been because the monster's intentions hadn't been malicious or because he just wasn't paying attention? Or, perhaps it was a worse scenario than that – perhaps he just couldn't sense what was after Rachel.

Whatever the reason, there was no excuse for Nico's failure. He was just plain fucking _lucky_ that she was unharmed, let alone still breathing.

Gods, he was so _stupid_. He had brushed off the balcony within his first hour of arriving, and it had been the first weakness their enemy had exploited. He didn't know the first thing about keeping someone safe and alive – he only knew death, and that was going to get Rachel killed, just like it had with Bianca –

"What's that on the door?"

Rachel's question drew him out of his reverie, and Nico turned in her direction. She looked like shit right now, with her bleary red eyes and hair flying in every direction, but he still felt a faint stirring of desire overcome some of his feelings of frustration.

See, _that_ was what was wrong with him. He'd been letting his dick run the show for the last week, and he needed to get his head on straight already.

He had to _focus_.

"The blood? From what I could tell, it was probably a dog or some sort," he replied casually, studying Rachel's reaction. She kept her facial expression schooled, but he saw her skin pale just a little more.

"I saw that. I meant the markings. I didn't notice those before."

Nico looked back at the door. He had noticed the etchings on the glass when he had been cleaning up the mess the monster had left behind, but he hadn't bothered to see if they had meant anything. Now that Rachel had pointed them out again, he realized that they weren't random markings. They had a distinctive shape, almost like…

"Is…Is that Ancient Greek?" Rachel asked, moving closer to him. Nico tensed instinctively. How could she stand to be near him after he had failed like this?

"Yeah," he replied, bending closer to get a look at the glass. "Really shitty Ancient Greek, but that's definitely it. You can't read it, can you?"

"No. That's one super power I didn't gain when I became the Oracle."

As the crude letters began to take shape in his mind and form words, Nico suddenly wished he couldn't read Ancient Greek either because this message was making him _furious_. His hand found the handle of his sword and gripped it tightly as he read on, his anger rising with each word. When he found whoever was behind this, he was going to do something much worse than kill them –

"What's it say?"

"O – oh," Nico said, feeling his cheeks flush with mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Roughly, it translates into a request for a prophecy, complete with an offering, which was probably that carcass."

She didn't need to hear the rest of it – the litany of insults, the vicious threats, the promises of what they would do to her if she didn't comply. He wasn't going to add to her list of worries by repeating them.

"An – an offering?" she repeated, puzzled. "Why would I want an offering like _that_?"

"That's how people used to consult the Oracle in ancient Greece. They'd bring a sacrificial animal and some money before her, and if it was approved, she'd answer their question," he explained, straightening again. "But it didn't leave any question, so it must be a warning of some sort…"

Nico didn't like what this meant for the both of them. He'd been told by the gods that someone was trying to kill Rachel – not that something out there was interested in a prophecy and keeping Rachel alive for their own nefarious purposes. Killers were easy to understand, easy to predict; Nico understood the nature of death and those who reveled in it all too well.

But those who delighted in torturing the living…well, that was something much different.

"So that means they'll be back," Rachel said, her voice solid and unwavering.

"Most likely, but they won't get this far the next time," he replied, reaching for the curtains to pull them back into place. "I'll make sure of it."

"I know."

He had been sure she once she had recovered from the scare, she would've been ragging on him for being the most incompetent bodyguard in the world, so this quiet affirmation of her belief in him was rather surprising. Who was this and what had they done to the real Rachel Elizabeth Dare?

Nico looked at her again. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her mouth set in a firm line. There was no fear in her green eyes, only clear understanding. While most girls he knew would've been terrified out of their wits by what had happened, Rachel was full of pure determination – the determination to stay alive at all costs.

Rachel, Nico was beginning to understand, was a lot different than most girls.

"They won't try anything else tonight. It looked like they were more interested in scaring you than anything else," he continued. "I'm going back to my room, unless you need anything else…"

She shook her head, a long strand of red hair falling free from her pony tail and into her eyes. Before Nico quite knew what he was doing, he had reached up to tuck it behind her ear. Her eyes widened in surprise, but not dislike, as his fingers brushed her cheek and desire once again stirred in his belly.

He had to stop this.

"Sleep well, all right?" he said, swallowing thickly.

"I will."

He was going to get her killed if he didn't pull himself together and concentrate on his job.

**-o-**

In fact, Rachel did not sleep well for that rest of the night.

It was understandable, considering the circumstances, but annoying nonetheless, especially once she had sobered up after a few hours. She'd stared at the ceiling in her studio (because there was no way she'd sleep in her room after that), tossing and turning on her little cot until the orange glow from the sunrise began to peek through the windows. Her eyes began to droop closed sometime after that, as if her body had decided that just then it was finally safe to go to sleep.

And why wouldn't it be? Their enemy would have to a death wish to attack her while Lord Apollo was out, watching over everyone. Nothing would hurt her while he was around.

Her sleep wasn't easy and it didn't last long, full of nightmares about shadowy creatures with glowing red eyes and other monsters Rachel had long forgotten. It all combined into a painful, colorful swirl that might've been scenes from the future instead of just her imagination and, unable to take it anymore, she crawled out of bed a little later that afternoon, head pounding and limbs utterly exhausted.

She was extremely thankful that it was a Sunday so she didn't have to go anywhere and wouldn't have to deal with anyone besides Nico. She didn't know what kind of mood he'd be in today – he had mumbled something about messing around with security last night before storming out of her room to fume somewhere else – and she was hoping he wouldn't do anything stupid today because she could not be held accountable for what her massive hangover had her say in response.

Unfortunately for him, that happened to be the case.

When she had finally stumbled into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, hissing as the light flooding in from the windows hit her eyes, she'd been a little surprised to hear voices coming from the living room. One was definitely Nico's low tone, but the other was a female's high, giggly voice that made Rachel's head pound. She ignored her cup of coffee for the moment in favor of finding out just who was giggling with Nico in _her_ living room.

Sitting rather close to him on the leather couch was a young girl, maybe about sixteen or seventeen, dressed from head-to-toe in some ridiculous black lace get up that looked like it had been pulled out of Dumpster and artistically sewn together with fishing wire. Rachel probably would've liked it had it been on anybody else but this stupid girl, who was currently leaning into Nico's personal space a bit too much for her liking.

She was annoyed for Nico's sake, of course. It's not like it mattered to _Rachel_ how close another girl got to Nico's face or that her hand was on his upper thigh or that he was smiling at her in a ridiculously soppy sort of way –

"I didn't realize my place had become your new seduction den, di Angelo," Rachel snapped, causing the two pull away from each other and glance in her general direction. Nico at least had the decency to color in embarrassment; the girl glowered at her like she was something particularly scummy stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

"Who's this, Nico?" the girl asked with a thick Irish accent. She had multiple piercings on her face and ears, and her blonde hair was streaked with green and blue dye. She definitely seemed like someone Rachel would've normally hung out with, had it not been for the "holier than thou" vibe she was giving off in spades. "Your cleaning lady? You should tell her that her job is to take out the trash, not to look like it."

Oh, they were so not going to be friends after _that_. Nico choked back his bark of laughter as Rachel's glare zeroed in on him.

"That's a bit rich, coming from the girl wearing a trash bag," she snarled, turning her back on the two of them and walking into the kitchen. "Gods, I need some serious caffeine before I can deal with bratty teenagers."

She heard the couch creak as at least one of them got up, and the heavy footsteps on the tile a few moments later indicated it was Nico. He stood beside her, watching her as she played with the coffee machine, and Rachel was hardly bothered by it.

Having him around was comforting, in a completely baffling and annoying sort of way.

"You sleep okay?" he asked as she reached up to open the cupboard door.

"Of course not," she replied shortly, frowning as she noticed her favorite mug had been moved to one of the highest shelves. "Okay, first thing that's going on our list of boundaries… Under pain of death, you shall not move my mug from the low shelf."

Rachel stood on her tiptoes and made a grab for the mug. Her fingers brushed the handle, but it wasn't enough to grab it. She huffed and tried again, but Nico reached up and pulled the mug down with ease. He handed it to her, amused, and she stuck her tongue out at him, exasperated.

"I suppose you haven't slept yet, have you?" Rachel asked, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and his rumpled clothes.

"No. I waited until the sun rose to go and get Kate – " he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the girl in the living room. " – and that took much longer than I thought it would. I just got back, actually. Once she's done, I've got to take her back to Dublin and then I'll probably crash, if that's okay with you."

"Dublin?" Rachel repeated, wondering if she had heard him right. "Like Dublin, Ireland, Dublin?"

"Yeah, that's where she's from."

"But how did you…" Rachel paused, staring at him thoughtfully. She tapped her finger on the side of her mug, and then pointed it at him. "That's how you pulled that disappearing act in my room last night. I was going to ask you about that. Is that one of your freaky powers?"

"I believe you told me that if it was incriminating, you didn't want to hear about it," Nico replied with a grin. "Creatures of the Underworld can shadow travel, meaning I can pass through the shadows and end up somewhere else entirely. Little stuff like I did last night is easy, but travelling long distance wears me out pretty fast."

"Huh. So why did you have to go to Ireland to get Kate the Pierced Fiend?"

"Yes, Nico," Kate interrupted, leaning over the kitchen counter and glaring at the both of them. Rachel winced as the large crystal hanging from her neck scraped along the countertop. "Please tell me why you absolutely had to drag me to New York so I could watch you flirt with your pathetic mortal girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he said in a pained voice, as this conversation often came up in Kate's presence. Which, considering the possessive way she had clamped her hand on his elbow, it probably did.

"Yes, and I pity the girl who actually gets his attention one day," Rachel said as the coffee maker beeped. "Nico couldn't flirt if his life depended on it."

"Well, he clearly hasn't been trying with you then," Kate said haughtily, throwing her hair over her shoulder. Even though she looked like a punk, she reminded Rachel an awful lot of her prissy classmates from Clarion Ladies Academy. "You're too old for him anyway. What are you, like 30?"

Rachel gritted her teeth, willing herself not to pour the entire pot coffee on Kate's colorful head. It'd be a waste, and she'd still be grumpy after the fact.

Nico seemed to recognize the warning signs of her growing ire because he said, "Look, Kate. I just need your help with some protection spells for Rachel's apartment. We had an intruder last night, and I don't want anyone getting close to this place again."

This piqued Kate's attention for another reason entirely.

"An intruder? What kind?"

"A monster. I didn't get a look at it, but it could probably fly or at least climb since it got onto the balcony."

"That's unusual," Kate said, pursuing her lips into a concentrated pout so her piercing stood out a little more. "Most monsters aren't allowed in domestic spaces by default, and it definitely goes against their screwed up code of honor to attack someone in their sleep." She glanced between the two of them, and her gaze settled on Rachel. "What are you not telling me about her, Nico? Her aura is…different from most mortals."

Nico said nothing, glancing at Rachel cautiously. She realized he was putting the ball in her court – it was up to her whether or not Kate would know about the whole Oracle-assassination plot.

Rachel thought about not telling the other girl briefly, but decided it against. Despite her attitude problem, Nico obviously trusted her enough to bring her to her place with no warning to the contrary. And if Nico trusted her, it would have to be good enough for Rachel. She had to start thinking of him as her bodyguard instead of her bratty roommate.

"That would be because I'm the Oracle," Rachel replied, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "I suppose my aura would look a little funky."

"You're fucking with me," Kate said with disbelieving laugh. "Last I heard, the Oracle was a dried up mummy at Camp Half-Blood…unless they were talking about _you _after all."

Gods, she didn't look _that_ bad, did she? She tried to discreetly check her reflection in the metal of the coffee pot as she said, "I really as much the Oracle as Dead Boy over there is the son of an Olympian god. What I don't know is who you are and what you're doing in my apartment."

"Shouldn't you know such things if you're the Oracle?"

"Do you want to know what I see in your future? My foot getting shoved up your – "

"She's a priestess of Hecate, goddess of witches," Nico interrupted, sounding agitated. He glared at Rachel in disapproval. "She's going to help out without security; she's the best in her coven with protection spells and once she's finished, nothing mystical will be able to get anywhere near here."

Kate flushed at Nico's compliment, and Rachel felt resentment stir within her again. She was absolutely _not_ jealous of that teenager. No way. What was there to be jealous of, the fact that Kate and Nico seemed to have a history together that he and Rachel didn't? Or maybe the fact that Kate could have a romantic relationship with Nico and Rachel couldn't?

All right, that was _something_ to be jealous of, but it wasn't like she _wanted_ a relationship with Nico. She just wanted him to kiss her…and maybe do a few other things to her, if he felt so inclined. Considering he had never looked at her like the way he had been looking at Kate on the couch, that was a highly unlikely possibility and that was just fucking _fine_ with her.

"Fine. Whatever you think will work," she said, grabbing her mug off the counter. "I'm going to go take a shower, and then I'm going to lock myself in my studio. Don't let me keep you."

She didn't quite catch Nico's expression as she turned around, but she thought he might've looked a little relieved. Whether that was because she wasn't giving him any trouble about the security or because he wanted to have some alone time with Kate, she didn't know.

The two of them were gone again by the time Rachel got out of her shower, and she furiously threw herself into her painting. At least when she was lost in the art, she wouldn't have to worry about getting killed or obsessing over a stupid boy she couldn't have, and painting calmed her down better than anything in the world. She'd always be able to paint, no matter how tired, hung over, or scared she was.

Nico didn't show up in her studio for another few hours, and she felt his presence behind her before she saw him. She put the finishing touches on the area of canvas she had been working on for the past hour before she turned around.

"Everything work out okay?" she said as she pulled earbuds out and let them dangle down her shoulders.

"Yeah," Nico said with a yawn, leaning on one of the canvases with one arm. He was so exhausted that his hair was beginning to wilt. "Your apartment is officially monster proof. We even went to go find some creepy crawly to test it out while you were busy."

"That's good," she replied, feeling a little relieved. "And you got back to Ireland without any hassle…?"

"Other than Kate putting up a fight about me staying with her overnight, no. Nice girl, but in case you couldn't tell, she's kind of got this idea that I'm going to be her boyfriend," Nico said, rolling his eyes. "If I had a dollar for every priestess of Hecate who thought they were going to marry me, I'd be rich enough to buy this apartment."

Rachel smiled, both amused by this fact and secretly pleased that Kate had been shot down hard. "Have a little fan club, do you?"

"I don't know what's in the water across the pond, but whenever I met anyone in Europe who knew who I was, they just went apeshit. It's like I'm Elvis's clone or something," he said, holding up his hand and pointing to a jagged white scar on the palm of his hand. "I got this when two of Kate's coven members got into a magical cat fight about who deserved me more. I usually try to avoid them as much as possible because they're positively psychotic, but I had to make an exception for you."

"I'm sorry I make your life so difficult," Rachel said sarcastically. "So how close was I to getting turned into a toad?"

It worried her a little bit that Nico didn't take her comment as a joke and actually paused to think about it.

"Probably fairly close. I think the only thing that stopped her was her curiosity about your aura," he said. "Even if she had tried, her magic probably wouldn't have worked on you anyway."

A lot of things didn't work around Rachel – most electronic devices if she was about to have a prediction, for instance – but this was the first she'd heard about magic.

"Why's that?"

"The spirit of Delphi has her own protection. That's what kept my father from blasting your predecessor to bits after my mother died anyway. I suppose that's why whoever's after you is sending monsters instead of appearing in person. Delphi will protect you against most godly magics."

"Huh," Rachel said, tapping her finger thoughtfully against her chin. "So I could go mouth off to old Zeus himself and not get zapped into oblivion?"

Nico's gaze darkened, and Rachel swore she heard thunder rumble outside. "I wouldn't recommend it. And fat chance doing something that stupid while I'm around."

Rachel scoffed. "Like you could stop me. Remember, you're talking to the girl who tried to fly into the city during the Battle of New York."

"Tried being the key word," he replied, wagging his finger at her and Rachel laughed.

She wasn't sure why their usual banter was so different today. It certainly lacked the animosity and the anger from the previous week, and she hadn't found Nico half as annoying as he had been. Had one simple scare been enough for them to put aside their differences and act like adults?

"Oh, before I forget," Nico muttered, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a small, tissue wrapped package. Her tossed it at her and she caught it clumsily. "This is for you."

She unwrapped the tissue, careful not to smear the paint on her fingers and hyperaware that Nico was pretending to be disinterested while he watched her unwrap it. She pulled back the last layer of tissue, and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight.

Nestled in the white tissue was a simple, but very pretty, necklace. A small, shimmering white-blue moonstone hung from a short silver chain, the colors changing with the light as she shifted the package to examine it closer. Rachel didn't wear much jewelry, but this necklace was exactly her style.

"It's…it's very pretty," she said, hoping she didn't like a typical girl gushing over jewels. She frowned, and looked up at him. "But why are you giving it to me?"

"It was a gift from my father to my mother when they first met. They found it in her things after she died, and my aunt gave it to me before I left Italy," Nico explained, his tone casual but his stance stiff. "Moonstones are receptive to extreme emotions, particularly female emotions, and if you know how to use them right, you can use them as a monitor of sorts."

"Kind of like an ancient GPS locator, huh?" Rachel said, grasping the necklace by the chain and holding it up.

"If you're wearing this while I'm wearing mine," he held up his right hand and she noticed a new silver ring on his thumb. "We'll have a tiny connection. I'll know the instant you're in trouble, even if you're not quite sure of it yet. That way, I don't have to follow you when you decide to leave the apartment."

"But you will anyway," Rachel said pointedly, undoing the clasp and slipping the necklace around her neck. It was a little cold and heavy, but nothing terribly uncomfortable.

"Probably," he said. "I just thought I'd make an effort to respect your independence and…you know. Stuff like that."

He looked uncomfortable saying that, enough for Rachel's suspicions to be aroused.

"Percy got to you last night, didn't he?"

Nico scoffed. "No. Whatever gave you that idea?"

The tips of his ears were turning red as he talked, so Rachel made a mental note to send Percy a nice thank you present later in the week.

"Thank you," she said, fixing the clasp around her neck. "For the necklace, and everything else. I really do mean it."

"You're welcome, I suppose," he said, letting out another huge yawn." Anyway, I'm going to go sleep. Please try not to get yourself in trouble for the next eight hours, all right?"

"No promises," Rachel said with a smile, and turned back to her painting, the moonstone bumping against her breastbone.

* * *

**Next time on _Death's Dare_:** Rachel gets a visit from a rather unwelcome goddess.

Thanks for reading and please review!


	5. Revelations

**Author's notes:** Sorry this took a little longer to put out, but I hope the length makes the wait worth it! Writing around school and everything else is a little complicated. Just to let you know, this is the chapter where Death's Dare starts to earn it's M rating and things start to get a little steamy. Nico's scene is fairly explicit, so if things of a sexual nature make you uncomfortable or you're too young to be reading it, you can skim that and not miss too much when it comes to the plot.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Revelations**

"Make sure you stir that more often, otherwise you're going to burn it."

"I think I can handle warming spaghetti sauce, Chef Boyardee. Believe it or not, but I have used a stove before."

"Yeah, for boiling Ramen noodles, I'm sure. I've seen the collection in your cupboard."

Rachel reached across the space between them and swatted Nico in the arm. It didn't do much to deter him, and he grinned at her as he tore off another piece of bread from the loaf sitting beside him on the counter.

"Sometimes you're such a brat, di Angelo," Rachel sighed. "Here I am, making a nice, home cooked meal the night before I go back to school, and all you can do is make fun of me."

"Well, that's because you look good barefoot and in the kitchen – hey, I was just kidding! Put the knife down!"

It was almost ridiculous how well she had been getting along with Nico in the days following the visit from the monster at her window. They were still arguing, of course – Rachel didn't think there were enough monsters in the world to make them get along completely – but it lacked the resentment and rancor from the previous days.

She figured her new attitude had to do with the fact that she didn't view Nico as an inconvenient hassle anymore; now that she knew without a doubt that someone was trying to kill her and it wasn't just Apollo being overprotective and paranoid, she practically welcomed his presence. If she had been living alone with this hanging over her head, she probably would've gone a little crazy, jumping at every strange sound or sleeping with all the lights on.

Nico's presence made her feel safe and a little less lonely. She rarely strayed anywhere in her apartment other than her bedroom or studio and it was a little unusual for her to be spending this much time with someone outside of school. She had mortal friends of course, but it was hard to get close to any normal people when she could burst into a prophecy at any moment and lot of them got weird once they found out who her dad was. When she wasn't on campus, she spent her time with local art organizations or doodling at some café in the Village before heading home to spend the rest of the night by herself.

With Nico around, it was different. He followed her to the cafés and made a big deal about how terrible her wheatgrass smoothie tasted before going off about how much he wished she would pick more exciting places to hang out so he didn't have to listen to environmentally themed poetry slams. He left signs of his presence all over her place, whether it was a pair of smelly socks on the coffee table or open books scattered in the strangest locations (she'd found one in the bathroom cupboard, for the sake of the gods), and after the monster incident, they tended to gravitate toward each other fairly often when they weren't in their bedrooms.

Rachel liked having someone around to talk to, even if a good portion of their conversations ended with them screaming at each other and slamming doors, and it was nice doing things like cooking dinner for two…

So long as person number two didn't dip his hunk of bread into her pot of spaghetti sauce while she was cooking it, that is.

"Gross, Nico!" she said, slamming the cover down on the pot before he could do it again. "Couldn't you have done that with a piece of bread you _hadn't_ taken a bite out of?"

"Why? It's not like anyone else but us is going to eat it."

"Did you ever think that I didn't want to be exposed to your corpse cooties?"

He shook his head as he shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth all at once. He made a face of dislike as he chewed and swallowed a moment later.

"Ugh. Please tell me you didn't use premade sauce."

Rachel pointed to the empty jar at the edge of the counter. "Sorry, but my family isn't the type to keep homemade spaghetti sauce recipes."

"Gross," he said, imitating her earlier tone well enough to make her frown. "Remind me the next you want to go all domestic to let me make the sauce for you."

Rachel arched an eyebrow at him, and reached across the stove to check on the progress of the noodles. Steam wafted from the pot as she lifted the lid, and she stirred the noodles around with a fork, pulling a few out to examine them before plopping them back in the hot water.

"You know how to cook something edible? I am thoroughly impressed."

Besides the children of Demeter, most demigods Rachel knew could not cook to save their lives. She supposed because they were kind of awesome at everything else, they had to be bad at something as simple as cooking. Percy and Annabeth survived on a heavy diet of take-out and Sally Jackson's everlasting kindness, and aside from the cooking-eggs-shirtless business, Rachel hadn't seen Nico anywhere near the kitchen since he had arrived.

He shrugged. "I learned how while I was in Italy. My aunt's kind of up there in years, so I tried to make things easier for her if I could."

"That was…surprisingly sweet of you."

"I have my moments," he said, tearing off another chunk of bread. "Just not around you though."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"That figures. You know, you never did tell me why you went to Europe. Were you looking for your family?"

"Not really. I always wanted to go and I didn't have anything keeping me here, so I just went. I got to Italy eventually and I decided it wouldn't hurt to see if I had some relatives who were still alive," Nico explained, biting into his bread. "My grandfather was an ambassador to the U.S. in the thirties, you see, so I figured they'd be pretty easy to look up. Well, as it turns out, the di Angelo family is still very much into politics and they initially thought I was some jerkass trying to blackmail them for money."

"Lemme guess. Politician's illegitimate love child?"

"Yeah. It was kind of a mess for a while, but I managed to convince them that Bianca and I had survived the explosion that killed our mother and that I was actually my own grandson…Gods, that sounded so much less fucked up the first time around."

"You're part _Greek god_, Nico. Your entire family tree is one fucked up mess," Rachel said, lifting up the lid on the noodles again. The water was beginning to bubble, so she switched the heat off and grabbed the handle to pull it off the burner. "Don't tell me they bought that sad story of yours without some proper research."

"No way," Nico replied, moving to take her spot at the stove in front of the sauce pan as she drained the water from the pan in the sink. She heard him rustling around in one of the cupboards next to the stovetop as he continued, "But lucky for me, Alecto forged a bunch of records for me when I tried to go to high school, and they worked well enough when the family did a background check on me. My aunt didn't believe me at all, and she figured out who really was eventually. It was kind of weird at first because she was born just a couple of years before me, and she didn't know what to make of me being so young…but after a while, we got over it."

Rachel listened as she poured the water and noodles into the strainer in the sink, the steam hissed as it rose in the air. She'd dragged Nico's story out of Percy a few years back, and she'd always found it much more interesting than any of the other demigods. How often did you meet someone who had their entire life and destiny reshaped like that? And it must've been so shocking for Nico's aunt to discover her nephew wasn't really dead after all and on top of that, a demigod…

"Were you planning on going back soon?" she asked as she moved toward the kitchen island to put the noodles in a serving bowl.

"Probably. I wasn't planning on coming back to America until this situation cropped up," he said. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she felt a little something inside her melt. There was just something so appealing about a good-looking man cooking. All he needed was an apron, and the picture would be complete. "I think you and my aunt would get along. She was a curator at an art museum in Florence before she retired…and she likes bossing me around."

"I do not _boss_," Rachel said, tossing the strainer back into the sink and moving toward the stove. She noticed the spice cupboard was open and Nico had taken several of the containers down. "Hey, did I say you could mess with the sauce?"

This time it was Nico's turn to roll his eyes. "_Sure_ you don't boss."

"I _don't_," she said, bumping him with her shoulder in an attempt to move him from his place, "and I happen to like the way that sauce tastes, thank you very much!"

"What, bland and unappealing?" he said sarcastically. He stirred the wooden spoon around once in the sauce before holding it out expectantly. "Try it now; it's much better."

Rachel glowered at him and before she could protest, he pressed the spoon up to her lips. She sighed obligingly, and opened her mouth, letting the spoon slide in. He had tried her wheatgrass smoothie without complaint, so she suppose she owed him a –

"Oh, _mmm_," Rachel said, closing her eyes briefly as the taste hit her tongue. It was a lot better, spicier and smoother than it had been before. She wasn't sure how a few spices could've improved the taste that much, but if Nico could do that to all her good, she'd let him run the kitchen however he wanted.

The spoon slid out of her mouth as Rachel's eyes fluttered open again and her stomach rolled as she caught sight of the look on Nico's face. His eyes held a dark, hungry look that had nothing to do with food, and he was staring at her lips as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. Rachel was very aware of how hard and strong the line of his arm pressed against hers was, and exactly how much heat his body was giving off. Percy always complained that Nico had ice cold skin, but Rachel had never noticed and why in the name of Hades was she thinking about _Percy_ when Nico looked like was about ready to ravish her within an inch of her life?

She had a sudden vision of Nico hoisting her onto the top of the kitchen counter and brutally kissing her as she tugged his shirt out of his pants and over his head. Her shirt came off next, and she was clawing at his bare back as his mouth moved lower and lower down her chest –

Rachel wasn't sure if this was a vision of the future or just an incredibly brief and vivid fantasy, but it made her limbs tremble with want anyway. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, trying to control herself so she didn't throw herself at Nico to make it come true.

That small bit of movement seemed to be enough to break the spell on Nico's end as he glanced away a moment later and cleared his throat.

"See what I mean?" He asked, voice a little lower and huskier than before. "A lot better."

"Yeah," Rachel sighed, her shoulder slumping in disappointment, which was _stupid_. Had she really thought that would happen? She was the Oracle, and Nico might be a little prick, but he would never do anything to disrespect her position like that. "Much better…hey, you're not putting that spoon back in there, are you?"

"Duh. What else do you want me to do with it?"

"Gross, I licked that! Don't they teach you hygiene in the Underworld?"

"Again, we're the only one's eating it, Dare. Seriously, you are such an overbearing freak sometimes – "

"A freak? A f_reak_? I'm not the one who was talking to the ghost of a window cleaner yesterday, Dead Boy!"

And just like that, things were back to normal between them, although Rachel couldn't help but wonder later that night if that's how she wanted things to stay.

**-o-**

Nico wasn't particularly fond of cold showers, but he sure had been taking a hell of a lot of them lately. Mostly because he lived a door down the hall from and spent most of his time a hanging out with fucking gorgeous woman that he couldn't have, and he just could not stop thinking about her.

Or, more precisely, he couldn't stop thinking about what he'd like to _do_ with her.

He thought about sex a lot – what horny, twenty-year-old male didn't? – but never quite as much as he had recently. It seemed like every other thought was something about sex or Rachel and all the combinations thereof. Everything she did caused him to wonder – if he pressed his lips against her collarbone, would she sigh like she had when she'd finished the end of that trashy novel she'd been reading all week? If he ran his hands under her top and up her sides, would she moan like she had when she'd taken her first bite of the fresh chocolate chip cookie from the bakery down the street?

Could he make her gasp his name with pleasure if he took her in the middle of her studio, pressed up against a still drying painting? Could he make her scream if he went down on her out on the balcony for the entire world to hear? Could he kiss her and kiss her and never let her out of his bedroom again?

He could – he _knew_ he could – but fucking Rachel wasn't his job.

And his job was entirely the problem.

Nico closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool tile of the shower, letting the freezing spray run down his shoulders and back. His skin was full of goosebumps, but it didn't do much to deter the strength of his erection.

"Fucking morning wood," he muttered.

Normally, when he wanted to whack off to a particular girl and whatever depraved fantasy he had in mind with her, he didn't feel like a fucking creep for doing it. It was different with Rachel – it was always different with her.

As her bodyguard, he knew he shouldn't be having some of the thoughts he did about her. He was distracting himself constantly, thinking about what way he'd fuck her or how good her legs looked in that pair of jeans or number of other things when he should be concentrating on what was going on around him. He had to check himself constantly when he was her, making sure he wasn't staring at her or touching her for an inappropriate amount of time, or putting himself in a position where he'd be tempted to take her. He'd almost lost control when they had been cooking last night, and she'd sucked on the spoon he'd held out to her like it was the most appetizing thing in the world. And then she'd looked at him like she expected him to ravish her on the kitchen floor afterward…

He'd had a hard on for the rest of the night from just that little moment because Rachel just didn't know how fucking appetizing she was to _him_.

And if he was entirely truthful with himself, it wasn't just her body he wanted. He wanted anything and _everything_ associated with Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

If they were two normal, horny young adults, they would've fucked already and gotten it out of their system. As it was, she was the virginal host of the Oracle and he was her bodyguard, and he would continue to be the most sexually frustrated twenty-year-old male on the planet, destined to jerk off in a cold shower every morning.

Nico sighed, cracking his eyes open and frowning in dismay at his continued state of arousal. He'd be cranky all day if he didn't get this taken care of, wrong or not. Gods, he'd get barbequed by Apollo if he ever found out what dirty thoughts his Oracle inspired in him.

Well, if he was going to get barbequed, he might as well make it worth it…

He slid his hand downwards, grasping himself and beginning to stroke slowly as a fantasy formed in his mind.

_Rachel burst into the bathroom while he was in the shower, yelling at him for something or another, and she paused, growing flustered as she realized he was wet and naked behind the frost of the shower glass. _

"_Dare," Nico said, opening the shower door and giving her a full, uncompromised view of his body, including his straining erection. "Are you really going to yell at me while I'm in the _shower_?"_

_She tried not to let his nakedness bother her, but the flush on her face grew more pronounced and she nervously licked her lips as her eyes darted downward. He could tell she wanted him, and it only made him harder._

"_It's not like you're doing anything extremely important in there," Rachel replied coolly, only the crack in her voice revealing how unnerved she was. "Or should I come back in a couple of seconds? I'm sure you'll be done after a few more strokes – hey, what are you doing?"_

_Nico stepped out of the shower and reached for her; she took a step back, but it wasn't enough to escape his grasp. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her into the shower, clothes and all. She shrieked in protest as the cool water hit her body, causing her skin to pimple and her nipples to stiffen almost instantly, and Nico didn't bother to bite back the groan at the sight of her wet T-shirt clinging to her ample chest and her bedraggled red hair hanging in her eyes._

"_Di Angelo, you crazy idiot!" Rachel hissed, slapping him in the chest. "Do you know what Apollo will do to me if he sees me like _this_?"_

"_Yeah," Nico replied, closing the door and backing her against the shower tile. Rachel's breathing grew strained as he pressed his body against her, and her hand trembled against his chest. But her eyes glittered with excitement and desire as he slid his hand to the back of her neck; she wanted it as much as he did. "This."_

_She let out a squeak as he crushed his mouth to hers, but it quickly turned into a satisfied moan and she immediately opened up to him as he slid his tongue along the crease of her lips. It wasn't a nice kiss – it was frenzied and passionate, with hands and mouths moving everywhere as they tried to feel everything that had been denied to them. Rachel felt like heaven, her curves pressed against him, his dick buried into the burrow of her stomach and his hands slipping into her wet jeans to mold her ass. Every noise, every little gasp or pant, she made was fucking music to his ears and he thought he'd come from that alone – _

_The hand that had been on his chest began to slide downward, teasingly slow compared to all of her other touches. Her fingers tangled in the coarse hair just above his dick and paused, waiting…waiting…_

"_Rachel," he muttered, licking the line of her neck. He was trembling, he was so close to the pleasure of having her hand on him. "If you don't fucking move, I'm going to – "_

"_Chill, Nico," she replied, laughter in her voice. "Gotta make those couple of strokes last, you know?"_

"_Oh, _fuck _you, Dare!"_

"_Yes," Rachel purred, and his knees nearly gave out as her hand finally moved and began to stroke his dick. She dragged her mouth along his earlobe and sucked. "_Fuck_ me, Nico."_

Nico came with a grunt, steadying himself with a hand against the shower wall. He panted as the water from the shower head washed away evidence of his desire, and then reached out to turn the water off.

Rachel's water bill was going to be horrific if something didn't change in the next couple of weeks.

**-o-**

Nico offered to drive her to campus for the first day of the semester, not so much because he was being nice, but because he liked being contrary. No matter how much she protested that she had been riding the subways and buses of New York City for almost ten years by herself without a problem, Nico had dubbed public transportation as too dangerous ("You don't know what sort of whackos are going to be waiting for you, monsters or not!) and since accompanying her on campus was absolutely out of the question ("I said I wouldn't send a skeleton guard to class with you, not that I wouldn't be there at all!"), they had to reach a compromise somehow.

Rachel would've been fine with Nico being her personal chauffer, had the only vehicle in their possession not been the demon motorcycle. After she made him swear not to go too fast and to actually stop at the traffic lights ("You are such a _killjoy_, Dare."), she'd reluctantly climbed on the bike and held on for dear life.

The second ride was much less frightening than the first, mostly because she had learned from the first time and kept her eyes closed and face pressed into the middle of Nico's back throughout the entire ride. It seemed to by much faster that way, and in no time at all, Nico had stopped and was killing the engine outside the Barney Building on Stuyvesant Street.

"You okay?" he asked as soon as the rumbling of his engine died off.

"Fine," Rachel replied, swinging her legs off the back of Nico's bike and slipping the helmet off with trembling hands. "Why do you ask?"

"I think I have puncture wounds from your fingernails, that's why," Nico said, getting up as well. He glanced down at his T-shirt, as if he was looking for holes. "I can't be _that_ bad of a driver, can I?"

"Yes you can," she said with a shudder, running a hand through her hair to untangle it. "Do you want me to call you when I'm ready to be picked up today or…?"

"I'll be around." She shot an unhappy look at him and he rolled his eyes. "You know, you wouldn't even know if I was nearby if I did decide to follow you. I'm good at being unnoticed."

Rachel thought this might be true for other people, but she'd certainly notice Nico's presence if he were nearby. She always knew when he was watching her when he thought she wouldn't notice – his stare always caused her skin to prickle with awareness and a certain other emotion that made her squirm at the thought of it. The boy didn't know how powerful his eyes could be on a girl.

"If I find out you've been following me at all, I will kick your ass," she said sweetly, handing the helmet to him. "I've got my dagger in my bag and Percy's a couple of blocks away if I really get in trouble. Why don't you go find a nice graveyard and relax in a coffin for the day or something?"

"That's the fifth vampire joke you've told this morning. You're slipping with those witty comebacks, Dare."

She shrugged. "I need at least another cup of coffee in order to start with the zombie jokes."

Nico sighed impatiently as she was speaking and reached for her. Her breath caught as his hands brushed against her neck, and she felt him adjusting the chain of her moonstone necklace. She gulped as one of his rough thumbs briefly trailed against her collarbone, and her knees wobbled like they tended to do whenever Nico so much as touched her.

He seemed to realize what he was doing after a moment, and pulled his hands away, shoving them inside the pockets of his leather jacket.

"The clasp was showing," he muttered, looking away from her. "Sorry."

"Its fine," Rachel said, just a little breathless. Gods, a little touch shouldn't unnerve her this much! "Perfectly fine. I'll…I'll see you later?"

He grunted in confirmation and turned back to his bike. Rachel watched him for a second, imprinting this image of him in her mind, and then turned, heading for the entrance of the building.

"Rachel?" She paused on the steps, glancing over his shoulder. She hadn't seen that intense expression on his face since the visit from the monster. "Don't do anything stupid."

Rachel rolled her eyes in exasperation, but nodded and opened the door to the building. She heard the rumble of his motorcycle, but it was cut off as the door closed behind her. She didn't have much time to appreciate the silence and her suddenly Nico-free environment though.

"Rachel Dare, you dirty liar!" Jenna shouted from the circle of chairs in the lobby where she was sitting with Angeline. "I thought you said you weren't dating him!"

"I'm _not_," Rachel said vehemently, walking over toward the chairs so her friend wouldn't have to shout. There weren't many people around this early in the morning, but she didn't want her business to be broadcasted to those who were hanging around. "I told you, he's just living with me!"

"Oh, come on," Angeline replied, fixing Rachel with her Don't-You-Give-Me-That-Bullshit stare. "We saw what you were doing out there – you don't act like that with guys."

"Yeah, if you're not dating him, at least tell us that you're fucking his brains out," Jenna added casually, causing Rachel to flush bright red. She'd rather face down another crazy monster at her window then have this conversation with her friends.

"I'm not – no, Nico and I are not having sex!" she exclaimed, trying to fight her growing embarrassment. "And we will not be having sex any time soon!"

"Why the fuck _not_? Rachel, that boy is walking sex on legs! You are crazy not to get on that – "

"He's gay, isn't he?" Angeline said, nodding knowingly. "It's always the cute ones who are gay as a maypole."

"Nico is not gay," Rachel huffed, glaring at the two of them. They waited expectantly for her to continue and Rachel had to scramble for an excuse. "He's – he's just not interested in me, all right? That's why we're not dating or having sex or whatever. No interest whatsoever."

Rachel didn't know what was worse – the disbelieving looks her friends were giving her now or their embarrassing chatter from before. She needed to escape from this, now.

"I'm going to the vending machines. I'll see you in class," she said with a sigh, standing from her chair.

"Don't run from the truth, Rachel!" Jenna called after her. "We'll drag it out of you eventually!"

Being friends with normal mortals was just so hard sometimes, especially when said mortals were pushy like her friends. She wondered what Angeline and Jenna would say if she told him the truth – that she couldn't date anyone because she was the virginal host of the Oracle of Delphi. Jenna would probably laugh and tell her to come back with a better excuse, while Angelina would just stare at her until she made Rachel so uncomfortable that she recanted the entire thing.

But it wasn't like she had been lying completely when it came to Nico. He wasn't interested in her – much.

All right, she _had _been lying. She'd have to be dead not to notice the way he'd been staring at her lately, and how often they were having encounters like they had this morning. Nico was definitely interested in her…and the terrible thing was, the hungry, frustrated part of Rachel wouldn't mind at all if he did make a move. She was twenty-four years old, and had only been kissed once – she wanted _more_ than that, dammit.

Maybe when they got home tonight, she'd 'accidently' stop the car and corner him in the elevator. She'd hook her fingers into his belt loops and drag him closer to her – he'd protest the entire time, calling her crazy and stupid, but all the protest would go out the window once she got her lips on his and then his big hands would slide down and cup her ass, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist where she could feel –

Rachel shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

What in the name of Hades was wrong with her? She wasn't like this – her job was much more important than some quick make out session with a cute boy who wouldn't have looked at her twice if she wasn't off limits. There'd be plenty of time for kissing once she wasn't the Oracle…which wouldn't be for much longer. She hoped.

She looked around, as if she could spot whoever was invading her thoughts with the plot of a raunchy Harlequin novel, and to her ultimate surprise, she did.

Standing in front of the vending machines at the end of the hall, biting her full, bottom lip in concentration, was a goddess. Gods and goddesses weren't that hard to pick out from the Mist, as they tended to have a supernatural glow about them that humans didn't. This goddess had a soft pink glow from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Rachel had never seen her in person before, but she'd seen hundreds of paintings of her before – the goddess of love, Aphrodite.

Rachel wanted to bang her head into the wall. It was never a good sign when a Greek god showed up in the Barney Building, and it wasn't like she could refuse their requests. They were giant super beings with magical powers, after all. The last time one of them decided to visit, Rachel had to explain to the dean of the art department why there was a Zeus-shaped hole in the main gallery wall. Apparently, the lord of the sky had been offended when she had she wouldn't find him a new mortal paramour – she was the _Oracle_, not eHarmony for Apollo's sake.

Aphrodite looked away from the vending machine and fixed her eyes on Rachel. She was so pretty, Rachel almost couldn't stand it

"Do you have a couple of dollars to spare, Oracle? All I have are these dratted gold drachmas, and you just can't buy much with them these days."

Apparently, this goddess was just in need of a chocolate fix. That, Rachel could handle.

"Uh…sure," Rachel said, digging around in her pockets and pulling out some change. She handed the coins to the goddess, who took them and placed them delicately in the machine. Rachel watched her movements with envy – it wasn't fair that she could make something like putting quarters into a beaten up vending machine graceful and _sexy_. "If you don't mind me asking, Lady Aphrodite, but what are you doing here?"

"Nude modeling for the freshmen art students," Aphrodite said with a giggle, indicating the white bathrobe she was wearing. Rachel hadn't noticed it because she had been focused on the other woman's face, and she frowned at the sight of her perfectly toned legs. She'd have to work out at the gym for hours to achieve even a fraction of that tone. "They're positively adorable when they get all flustered and aroused. Plus, have you seen their professor? Grad student and he's a _total _babe. I'm going to try and get a private portrait commissioned later, if you know what I mean. Oh, but I'm talking to you. Of course you don't."

Rachel felt her face heating up again. How did she manage to barrel into one embarrassing question about her lack of sex life straight into another?

"I know what you're talking about."

"You know the technical aspects, but not the real life results, my dear. The heat, the passion, the craving…those are not things you can learn through books," Aphrodite shot her a secretive smile. "And I'm absolutely positive Mr. di Angelo would be delighted to show you what I mean. You ever think about those hands of his, Rachel? You can tell a lot about a man by his hands, the way he holds things, the way he touches something...it's so easy to imagine those hands _everywhere_ – "

"Stop it!" Rachel interrupted, a low fire beginning to burn in her belly. She didn't know how much of her reaction to Aphrodite's words was her own or influence by the goddess's magic. "You know I can't do anything. Apollo would – "

"Bah, Apollo," Aphrodite said, waving her delicate hand. "I taught him everything he knows, and he goes around acting like he's some divine gift to women. He wouldn't know love if it came up and smacked him in his pretty face. I don't know why he insists on this silly charade of needing a virgin when most of his Oracle's break the rules anyway."

"And then they get burned to a crisp, so I'd like to keep living, if that's all right with you."

Aphrodite shot her a critical look and said, "If you have any imagination in that little red head of yours, you can come up with a way to bend the rules _without_ breaking them."

If Rachel didn't know any better, she would've sworn Aphrodite was trying to _help_ her. The gods only meddled in mortal lives when there was something in for them, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why getting Rachel laid would be in the goddess's best interests.

"You just don't know how good your story would be, do you?" Aphrodite sighed, as if she had been reading Rachel's mind…which she probably had. "I like you, Rachel Dare, you know that? You were so much fun to play with when I was trying to get Percy and Annabeth together, but what you have going on now with the son of Hades is the stuff of epics."

Rachel felt her blood run cold.

"Wait, you _played _with me? What's that supposed to mean?"

Aphrodite rolled on, as if she hadn't heard Rachel's protest. She was typing something into the keypad of the vending machine as she spoke. Something dropped and she reached down to pull out a Snickers bar out of the bottom of the machine.

"You've got everything you need for an epic romance: a forbidden love between a dark, brooding young man and the virginal woman yearning for his touch…plus there's this whole assassination subplot and you've totally got that 'will they, won't they' tension going on. If I get this romance to work out between the two of you, I will be ecstatic for, like, the next century," she said with a giggle. She unwrapped the candy and took a demure bite of the Snickers. "Just try not to get killed though, all right? Broken hearts are good, but nothing ruins a good romance like blood. Did you know Shakespeare changed the ending of Romeo and Juliet to spite me? Awful, awful man.

"Anyway, I have to get going, otherwise they're going to wonder where I've gotten off to. Can't leave _mi amour_ waiting, you know, otherwise I'll have to work harder to get his attention," she said cheerily. "See you around, Oracle!"

Aphrodite turned and walked away, disappearing down another hallway before Rachel could even formulate a response. She wasn't sure what that response would've been anyway – a howl of rage? A desperate sob? Perhaps a combination of them both?

The goddess had been _playing_ with her and Nico's emotion in her spare time, like they were some kind of toys for her amusement. Did that mean everything she'd felt in the last few weeks hadn't been real? That everything Nico had inspired in her – wanting, annoyance, fondness – had been_ contrived_? And what had been that bullshit about her, Percy, and Annabeth? Had Aphrodite been meddling then too?

Were all the relationships she had formed with demigods in the last few years just one giant lie? Had there ever been anything about her life that wasn't fake?

Feeling a little weak and drained, Rachel slid to the floor and leaned against her head against the vending machine, wishing, for the first time in her life, that Percy Jackson had swung his stupid sword at some other girl's head eight years ago.

* * *

Next time on **Death's Dare**: Percy and Rachel have a talk, and Nico's first meeting with Mr. Dare goes just as about as well as expected.

Thanks for reading and please review.


	6. Confrontation

**Author's Notes:** Okay, so I lied in the last preview for the chapter: Mr. Dare won't be making an appearance for another couple of chapters. The plot decided it was time to show up, and make things complicated, so his appearance will get pushed back a bit. The word count for this chapter was starting to clock in at almost 8,000 words before I had even finished it, so I decided to split up what I had into two separate chapters. I only have one more scene to write in the next chapter, so it shouldn't take too long to upload after this!

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter! I'm definitely taking some of your comments to heart.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Confrontation**

Nico knew something was wrong when he saw Rachel later that afternoon.

That fact that she didn't snark at him when he inquired about her day, and didn't throw another hissy fit about having to ride on the motorcycle was enough to set off the mental alarm bells. Add that to the fact that he'd been feeling a little off today, thanks to their connection through the moonstones, and that she hadn't said a word to him since this morning, he had enough evidence to decide that Rachel was most definitely upset.

About what, though, was the real mystery.

His presence couldn't have been the cause, unless she'd heard about the police getting called to the apartments across the street from the Barney Building. Apparently mortals got very suspicious when they saw young men in dark clothes perched on rooftops with binoculars, so Nico would have to be a little more discreet next time he picked a location to watch the building.

And hey, whatever had happened during her day couldn't have been as bad as when he got trapped in the Urban Outfitters down the street for an hour while a manager in bright green skinny jeans tried to convince him that yes, oversized tortoiseshell reading glasses were exactly the right look for him and that he should really apply for the opening sales position because he could totally pull off the V-neck sweaters for their fall line or some bullshit like that. Goddamn mortal hipsters.

He was about 99% sure that this had nothing to do with monsters, as he hadn't sensed anything amiss throughout the day. Then again, he hadn't sensed the other monster, so one could've appeared and he wouldn't have been any the wiser. But Rachel probably would've loved the opportunity to brag that she had taken a monster out without his help, so that option was highly unlikely.

Something had upset her though, enough to make her confident shoulders slump and dim her usually bright personality. Rachel wasn't the type to get upset over someone making bitchy comments about her appearance, so whatever had happened had to be serious enough to warrant his interference.

Nico knew that if he let her get up to her apartment without bringing it up, he'd never figure out what had upset her because she'd go close herself off in her room and stew about it from the rest of the night. They were alike in that way – Nico would rather get teeth pulled then have a heart-to-heart conversation with someone, but he knew all too well what brooding could do to a person. Maybe if he'd be more receptive to talking earlier in his life, he wouldn't have gotten into so much trouble later on.

Not that Rachel was the type to go find a vengeful ghost and try to resurrect her dead sister by sacrificing Percy Jackson's soul, but you never did know with girls.

So, with that thought in mind, Nico reached out and pressed the emergency stop button as they ascended to the top floor of her building. The elevator jolted to a halt between floors, and Rachel tottered on her feet, grabbing onto his arm to steady herself.

"What – what are you doing?" she asked, letting go of his arm as he turned to her.

He was surprised to see that her face had gone pale and that she was staring at him with wide eyes. He wondered if Rachel was claustrophobic, but quickly dismissed that thought. She'd wandered around Daedulus's labyrinth without a problem, and if that hadn't caused a massive panic attack, a five-minute stint in a stopped elevator wouldn't be a problem.

"We need to talk," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Can we talk when we're not in the elevator?" Rachel responded, making a move toward the control panel. Nico stepped in front of her, and she glared at him. She made a move to the right, and he stepped in front of her again. "What is your problem, Nico?"

"What's _your_ problem?"

"_My_ problem is that I'm stuck in an elevator with a lunatic!" she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. Color had come back into her cheeks, and Nico was glad to see that he was able to provoke some emotion out of her, even if it was anger. "All you demigods just think you can do anything you want, but I'm not having it. I want out of here. Now."

"No. You won't tell me anything if I let you go, so we're not moving until you tell me what happened today," Nico said, moving closer to her and causing her to step back into the wall.

Rachel scoffed at him, but her eyes darted away from side-to-side nervously.

"_Nothing_ happened. I don't know why you think I have something to talk about."

It was Nico's turn to glare, and he stepped closer to her again, placing his hands against the wall on either side of her head. Rachel's chest was heaving like it had in his fantasy that morning, but out of anger and frustration instead of pleasure.

"Tell me."

"I don't have to tell you squat," she said venomously. "In case you've forgotten, Dead Boy, you're my _bodyguard_, not my friend. If I wanted the help's opinion on my day-to-day problems, I'd ask for it."

Nico couldn't stop the wince that crossed his face at her comment. They'd been on friendly terms recently, and he'd thought that maybe she was starting to think of him as something other than that stupid kid from camp or her annoying bodyguard. He had wanted her to think of him as a friend, wanted someone who saw him for who he really was – was that so much to ask?

After a moment, her words seemed to register with Rachel because she gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

"Oh gods, I sounded like my _father_," she said, pulling her hand away. "Oh, Nico, I didn't mean – I'm sorry, it's just – oh, goddamn that Aphrodite!"

Nico's curiosity overcame his hurt momentarily.

"Aphrodite? What does she have to do with this?"

Rachel's miserable mood returned, and she seemed to collapse in on herself. Nico suddenly ached with the urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her close –_no_. He was her bodyguard, not her friend. He didn't have the right to do that.

"She was prancing around the Barney Building today, trying to hook up with one of the TAs. I ran into her and she said..." she sighed, and looked away from him. "She said she liked _playing_ with me."

"Playing with you? What's that supposed to mean?"

He had actually had a pretty good idea of what she meant, considering he'd been dicked around enough times by his own father, but he didn't know why Aphrodite would interested in the virginal Oracle. Wouldn't that be fairly boring?

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, and Nico noticed that they were trembling.

"I don't know! She went prattling off about how much fun she trying to pair me up with Percy, and how you and I have the potential to be some epic romance, which is so damn stupid, and – "

"What's stupid about that?" he interrupted, a little more harshly than he had intended. His heart was beginning to pound painfully against his chest, and he had to know her answer. "Answer me, Rachel. What is stupid about you and I having a romance?"

"Because someone like you wouldn't be interested in someone like me without Aphrodite's influence!" she snapped, turning her gaze on him, her eyes blazing. "That's how it always is with me! I'm always the second choice, and now – now I don't even know if what _I've_ been feeling since you got here has been real or not!"

Oh.

Well.

That certainly explained why she had been reluctant to talk to him about it. They'd been content to ignore the sexual tension between them up until he had to go and get all concerned and drag it kicking and screaming into the open. Gods, he was an idiot. His attraction to Rachel was right at the bottom of the list of things he wanted to talk about at this moment, especially when he was so close to her.

"Look, Rachel, I don't – "

"You don't have to say anything," she interrupted with a huff. "I understand. I mean, I'm no Annabeth or anything."

Annabeth? _Annabeth_? How could she even think – why would she even believe that he was interested in Annabeth for one second?

"I don't give two shits about Annabeth," Nico growled, exasperated. "You have to know that I'd be kissing you within an inch of your life if I wasn't so mad at you for calling me _the help_, right?"

Her eyes widened in surprise and she gaped at him, trying to formulate a response. Finally, she shook her head and said slowly, "No, you wouldn't."

"_Yes_, I would," he insisted. "I want to kiss you because I think you're beautiful and lonely and kind of perfect. I want to kiss you because you're _you_, not because some stupid goddess made me feel this way."

"How…how can you be sure?"

Nico wasn't sure if he could explain something like that to her. How could he explain something that felt as natural as breathing to him? Should he have to explain it?

"Half the time I want to kiss you just get you to stop yelling at me and shut up already," he replied at length. "And if you have any doubt that that's all me…"

"So why haven't you? Kissed me, I mean."

Rachel's voice was breathless with anticipation, and Nico realized he was close enough to feel her breath against his cheek. Her lips were invitingly red and tempting, and it'd be so easy just to give in and take them. She'd told him to, practically dared him, and he knew it'd be worth every second of it…

"Because," he said, brushing his lips against her cheek. He could just taste her on the tip of his tongue and _fuck_, he wanted so much more than this, it actually hurt, "you're the Oracle and I'm your bodyguard. Kissing isn't in the job contract."

He waited for her to protest, to say anything that would refute the fact that she saw him as more than her damn bodyguard, but she didn't do anything besides stare at him with her wide green eyes. It took all of his self-control to pull away from her and give her an indifferent stare as he put his arms back down at his sides. He could feel the bitterness and disappointment rolling off of her, but it couldn't compare in the slightest to how he felt.

"I know all about being the second choice, Dare. My feelings are clear, but what about yours?"

He turned and pushed the resume button on the elevator, fighting the urge to punch something as the car began moving again. He practically bared his soul to her and she couldn't say_ anything_?

With a sickening swoop of his stomach, Nico realized what the problem was. The Oracle just wanted to be _kissed_, and he was the only guy available to her. What he wanted didn't matter; nothing he wanted ever mattered. Aphrodite wasn't playing with Rachel – she was playing with _him_.

He was a fool.

**-o-**

"I think I did something really stupid today."

Annabeth's image shifted on the screen of Rachel's laptop as she moved closer to the webcam. Percy had gotten the webcam for his girlfriend after Iris Messaging became a bit too expensive for them while they were apart during college, and it was certainly loads more convenient than making a rainbow to talk through for (mostly) normal people like Rachel.

"What did you do?" Annabeth asked, her voice sounding a little warbley through the laptop's speakers. She had a concerned look on her face. "Was there another monster attack?"

She wished there had been a monster attack. At least she knew how to deal with that sort of thing relatively well compared to what she had gotten herself into now.

"No," Rachel sighed, resting her head on the top of her knees. "I sort of tried to get Nico to kiss me."

Annabeth's mouth dropped open. "You did not!"

"It didn't go over very well," she said miserably. "I didn't think what was happening between us was really real, so I thought if I said that he couldn't possibly think I was attractive, he'd confess that he didn't but he totally said the wrong thing and – "

"Okay," Annabeth interrupted, holding up her hand. "You need to stop, rewind, and start at the beginning of this conversation because I have no idea what you're saying."

So Rachel told her everything that had happened today, from her encounter with Aphrodite to the scene in the elevator to Nico and the fact that he hadn't said a word to her in the hours that had passed since then. She didn't leave out a single feeling or detail – except for maybe the bit where Nico said he didn't care about Annabeth, because that would've only gotten the other girl mad – and when she was finished, she felt a little drained and tired. It had been a long time since she'd felt such intense emotions as she had in the last day in a half.

Other than occasionally making sympathetic noises under her breath, Annabeth had remained quiet while Rachel had told her story, grey eyes never leaving her face.

"Let me get this straight," Annabeth said after Rachel had fallen quiet. "Nico basically admits that he likes you, and you don't say _anything_? Good Lord, Dare, you _are_ stupid."

"I know!" Rachel said with a wince. "But what was I supposed to do? I wasn't expecting him to actually admit anything! I thought he'd pull a Percy and just look at me like he suddenly didn't understand English or something."

A brief smile crossed Annabeth's face at this. "Yeah, Percy wouldn't be able to find a proper emotional response to something like that if it came up, danced a jig, and then punched him in the gut. Nico's not much better, but when he finally snaps and gets going…watch out."

"I'll keep that in mind next time he corners me and demands to talk about my feelings," she mumbled.

"And how could you have possibly thought that our friendship was all made up?" Annabeth replied, her brow furrowing. "You _know_ I didn't like you the first time I met you, and we definitely overcame that years ago."

Rachel sighed and threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Have you ever had a one-on-one conversation with Aphrodite? She'd make _Heidi Klum _feel inadequate with just one sassy little remark," she replied. "She must've used some kind of magic on me to make me feel miserable because I am usually not that dramatic. Oh gods," she paused as a sudden, horrible thought hit her, "What if she did that so Nico and I would have that conversation in the elevator? What if that was all part of her plan and I fell for it like a complete _idiot – _"

"RACHEL!" Annabeth shouted so loud that her voice crackled over the computer speakers. "Get a hold of yourself and _think_ about this for just one second. I mean, if the gods are too busy to see their children most of the time, how are they supposed to pay this much attention to your lack of love life? No offense, but Aphrodite has bigger things to worry about than planning yours and Nico's every day interactions and causing you drama."

"But – "

"Shut up, I'm still talking. What that bimbo of a goddess meant when she said she was 'playing' with you is that she'll drop in occasionally to meddle or throw a wrench in your plans, but she'll probably leave you alone for the most part as things develop naturally," Annabeth continued in her no-nonsense voice. "Compared to some of the other goddesses, she sucks at meddling. Her idea of playing with Percy's feelings was throwing as many girls at him as she could, seeing which one would stick around and put up with him, and then acting like she worked oh so hard to get it done.

"You can't spend the rest of your life second guessing every choice you make and wondering if it's because some god wants it that way. The only time they care that much is when it concerns their immortal hides, so whatever you're feeling for Nico – and whatever he's feeling for you – is probably as true as it gets."

Annabeth finished with a little huff and blew her bangs out of her eyes emphatically. Rachel arched an eyebrow at her.

"Can I talk now?"

The other girl blushed and nodded. "Sorry, you know how I get."

Rachel did indeed. This wasn't the first time Annabeth had ranted at her for something or another, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Annabeth had more logic in her head than she knew what to do with and loved to dispense it as often as she could to as many unwilling recipients as possible. Rachel was usually one of them, seeing as though she did stupid, illogical things all the time.

Even though it was slightly embarrassing to be shown exactly how many ways she was an idiot, Rachel always felt a little better once Annabeth managed to poke holes in and deflate whatever stupid idea had crawled into her brain and insisted on upsetting her.

"Okay, so we've established that I'm the worst sort of drama queen," Rachel said, lifting her head up from her knees and pulling her hair out of her eyes. "That still doesn't change the fact that what Nico said was true – he's just my bodyguard and we can't be together."

"That doesn't mean you can't admit that you like him, does it? Nico's probably more upset over the fact that you didn't say _anything_ after he told you he wanted to kiss you than the fact that you_ can't_ kiss him."

"Who says I like him?" Rachel said, bristling. "I told you I thought he was cute, that's all."

Annabeth fixed her with a pointed look, and leaned in closer to the camera.

"You wouldn't have been as upset as you were if you didn't," she said simply. "Take it from someone who knows from experience, Rachel. Just acknowledge your feelings for the kid already and get on with your life."

Rachel heaved another sigh and smiled sadly at her friend. "I suppose I better go apologize to him or something."

"That would be good," Annabeth said, pulling away from the camera. "I expect to hear all the dirty details the next time we chat."

"I'm sure Percy will fill you in all the same."

"Probably, but you know how he is. 'Oh, by the way, Annabeth, Rachel and Nico got a fight but things are better now. Where do you want to eat out tonight?''" She replied, mimicking Percy's low voice perfectly. "I swear, someday he's just going to turn to me while we're watching TV and just say, 'So are we going to get married or what?' and count _that_ as his proposal."

"If you want him to marry him so badly, why don't _you_ propose to him? Isn't that what all the strong, independent women are doing these days?"

It was Annabeth's turn to sigh this time.

"No way. I've always made the first move. I kissed him first, I asked him on our first date, I asked him to move in with me for the summer… I'm sick of asking. It's his turn, and if he really wants it, he'll do it."

"Ten years from now," Rachel added dryly. She might have her problems, but at least she didn't have to stress about whether or not her boyfriend of seven years wanted to marry her. "Weren't we just talking about how emotionally stunted he is?"

"Ugh, please don't remind me," Annabeth said, glancing down at her watch. "I've got to go. You wouldn't believe how much homework they piled on during the first day and Kelp Brains is supposed to be calling in an hour anyway…"

"All right, I'll talk to you later," Rachel said, moving her mouse to close out of the chat program. She paused just before she clicked the button. "Annabeth? Thank you."

Annabeth grinned before she gave her a mock salute.

"No problem, Oracle Girl."

Rachel closed the program and then shut her laptop, before leaning back on her bed and staring at the ceiling.

She really had fucked things up big time between the two of them – and just when they had been getting along kind of well, too – all because she had to go and get insecure over something that could never happen. Nico hadn't even talked to her once they walked into the apartment, even though she tried to make conversation, and the way he had _looked_ at her in the elevator…

Rachel ran her hands over her face and rolled out of bed. She needed to go apologize to him – he probably wouldn't want to hear it, but she had to make him listen to her and make him understand that her silence hadn't been a rejection of him. She did want Nico, wanted more than she could have, and he had to know that if things were going to be all right between them.

Finding Nico was harder than it looked. He wasn't in the kitchen or living room, and he wasn't out on the main terrace area. He wasn't in the gym either and she didn't hear the water running, so he couldn't have been in one of the showers. When she knocked on his door and called his name, he didn't answer, not even to tell her to go to Hades like he usually did.

Rachel opened his door – hey, her dad was the one playing the bills for this place, she could open any door she pleased, no matter which ill-tempered demigod was currently living there – and found that his room was empty as well. She did notice that his balcony door was ajar, and she walked over to check it, just in case.

She let out a sigh of agitation when she poked her head out the door and didn't see the son of Hades lounging moodily on the balcony in the setting sun.

Where could Nico have gone? Even if he was mad at her, he wouldn't have let her here alone and without protection…would he? No, of course he wouldn't; protecting her was his only job, as she had so rudely pointed out earlier today.

"How am I supposed to apologize if I can't find you, you dolt?" she murmured, leaning against the doorframe and gazing miserably at the glittering city skyline sprawling before her.

**-o-**

If Rachel had thought to look on the roof of her building, she would've found Nico quite easily. As it was, he had only been a few feet above her when she had come out to look for him on the balcony. He had sensed her presence and briefly toyed with the idea of dropping a clay shingle on her stupid, self-absorbed red head, but decided that would be rather counterproductive to his duty as her bodyguard.

She only stayed on the balcony for a few minutes, watching the city with the late night breezing blow through her long hair, before she went back inside and shut the door behind her. Nico let out a sigh of relief and lay back against the slanted roof to stare at the purpling sky.

He didn't know how he was supposed to face Rachel from here on out. He was still fuming about her lack of response, and he probably wasn't going to forget it any time soon. It'd been a while since someone had made him so mad, it was almost all he could think about – his fatal flaw hadn't gotten much better since he'd been 12, anyway.

Nico would probably be able to treat her normally, but there'd always be something holding him back from now on, something that feared her rejection. Rachel knew a pretty big secret of his, and she could use it against him however she wished…again, not that Rachel was the sort that would do that, but things changed when emotions like lust and affection were involved. Who knew how she'd react to him? Would she think everything he did was a come on, or would she try to provoke some kind of response out of him for her own amusement?

He kicked at the shingles broodingly, and satisfaction flowed through him when he heard one of them crack.

After he'd left her in the elevator, he'd contemplated throwing in the towel. But his dad would kick his ass halfway across the country for disgracing the house of Hades or some shit if he quit, and Nico absolutely balked at the idea of anyone else besides him guarding Rachel. He might be slightly terrible at keeping her safe, but another demigod would get her killed within a day.

Nico might've been a lot of things, but he wasn't a quitter. He'd just have to suck it up, and deal with it. So what if Rachel didn't like him like that? He knew going into this job that he wouldn't be able to have her, and he was the idiot who had decided to develop misplaced feelings for her.

But still.

She thought of him as _the help_. She wasn't that much more important than him, just because she had a nice apartment and her father had money. His father was the god of riches, for Zeus's sake, and Nico could buy all of Manhattan if wanted, including her stupid apartment. He didn't have to take this job; he was doing her a favor –

Nico sat up suddenly, all his senses on high alert and any furious thoughts about Rachel fading away.

Something wasn't right.

The sky had darkened into a midnight blue and the city was blazing with yellow and white light from all of the buildings. The Empire State Building was glittering cheerfully just out of the edge of his gaze, and the city was full of the usual hustle and bustle – honking horns, slamming car doors, TVs blaring from open windows – of nightfall. There was nothing outwardly that seemed out of place or missing, but something suddenly just felt…off.

It was an awareness most demigods had – that prickling, uneasy feeling of knowing something unnatural was nearby and not being quite sure of what it was. It could mean anything from a surprise monster attack to the lingering presence of a god, but Nico had never felt anything quite like this before.

And that couldn't mean anything good, especially not when someone was after the Oracle.

Nico closed his eyes and concentrated on that feeling, searching for its source.

"There," he said, and reached out to the shadows.

When he opened his eyes, he was in the middle of a patch of wilderness in Central Park. He could feel Orpheus's entrance to the Underworld calling out to him from the south, but he ignored it, looking around for anything unusual. This part of the forest was quiet – it'd be cliché to say exactly _how_ quiet it was, but it was definitely suspiciously quiet for this part of New York.

So when he heard the noise from behind, it wasn't completely unexpected but it still managed to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It sounded like the growl of an engine, gravelly and full of menace, and Nico turned.

A large, dark shape stood from among the trees a few feet away, its immense bulk blocking out the glow from the city lights. It had to be at least four times bigger than Nico, and probably about ten times as wide, and it turned slowly, searching…

Nico got the briefest impression of terrible, squinty eyes covered in massive amount of hair and a mouth full of very sharp and impressive yellow teeth before the monster spotted him and let out a throaty roar.

"Demigod!" the monster exclaimed, taking a step toward him and causing the trees to shake with the force. A large blob of drool dislodged from its mouth and splattered on the forest floor. "My favorite snack!"

"Shit," Nico said, before turning tail and fleeing through the park.

* * *

Next time on** _Death's Dare_****: **Nico and Rachel resolve their differences. Sort of.

And I promise this will actually happen this time! Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	7. Resolution

**Author's notes:** I'm rather glad I decided to split this chapter up from what I originally intended because all together, it would've added up to about 10,000 words. These characters just don't know when to shut up, I'm telling you! This is the first chapter without any POV switches, and I didn't intend for what happens in this chapter to occur until much later in the story, but the characters grew minds of their own and decided that enough was enough. I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter - I know I had fun writing it.

Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. I broke a hundred reviews with the last chapter! Your support means so much to me.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Resolution**

_Note to self_, Nico thought as he tore through the patch of wilderness, ducking under tree branches and jumping over roots in his haste. _Next time you need to check on a disturbance in the Force, remember to bring your sword!_

Probably about five seconds after the gigantic monster had started chasing him through Central Park, Nico had realized he'd left all of his weapons in his bedroom at Rachel's place. To be fair, he hadn't thought the disturbance he'd felt would try to _eat_ him once he had found it, but he really ought to have known better by now. He hated to admit it, but he was _so_ out of practice with this whole getting attacked by monsters business; there hadn't been many in Europe and those that he did encounter gave up pretty quickly once they found out whose son he was.

The monster let out a roar, and there was a loud _crack!_ a moment later. Nico glanced behind him for just a moment – the monster had just punched a hole through one of the trees and was in the process of uprooting another.

Yeah, he didn't think this guy would be too impressed by the, "I'm the son of Hades, the ghost king!" line. He'd probably think that meant he'd taste extra delicious or something.

With something this size, Nico didn't have a lot of options in the fighting department without his sword. Hand-to-hand combat would be absolute suicide, and he didn't have the necessary time to summon skeleton soldiers. He needed concentration to do that correctly, and if he stopped now, he'd be monster chow. Besides, he didn't think the soldiers would do much besides get stomped on –

Nico let out a yell and skidded to a stop as large chunk of tree crashed through the canopy of branches above and landed in front of him.

"I don't like to chase my food, demigod!" the monster shouted, a vicious laugh in his voice. "Stop now, and I promise to keep you in one piece!"

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" Nico muttered, skirting around the tree trunk and changing directions.

Did these damn trees ever end? It was Central Park, for Zeus's sake, not a damn forest! If he could just get out of here and into an open area, he'd probably stand a better chance. Maybe he could summon some rocks to box the monster in long enough to find a weapon, but _damn_, he wasn't going to die because of this thing! His father would never let him live – er, haunt? – it down.

Thankfully the trees began to thin, and Nico burst out of the wilderness onto one of paths in the park, right in front of a large expanse of baseball fields.

Unfortunately, he promptly managed to smack headlong into a jogger passing by and the force sent both of them sprawling to pavement in a mess of limbs and curses.

"Ow, what the _hell_!" the jogger who sounded an awful lot like Percy Jackson shouted.

Nico accidentally smashed his elbow into the other man's nose, and yelped, "Sorry!" as he was shoved off a moment later.

"_Nico_?" the jogger demanded, sitting up and revealing that he was, indeed, Percy Jackson. "Man, what the fuck are you doing?"

Nico had never been more relieved to see the son of the sea god in his life, even if Percy looked like he wanted to clobber him.

"Percy!" he exclaimed, grabbing the other man by the neck of his T-shirt. "Do you have Riptide on you?"

Percy's forehead wrinkled, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Of course. Why…?"

Nico didn't even have to answer him. The ground shook under them and the tree line exploded as the monster burst out of the forest. Nico ducked, covering his face with his arm to avoid getting splinters of wood in his eyes. When he looked up again, the monster was hovering over them.

It had grubby brown skin, covered in patches of wiry dark hair that climbed all the way up to its head. Its legs and arms were the size of tree trunks, and it had a pot belly that hadn't seemed to slow it down any while it had been chasing Nico. Sharp, dirty claws extended from its fingers and his mouth was stretched into a grin that bared all of its impossibly sharp and yellow teeth. Like most monsters, it didn't have a pretty face, but that only meant it would have even more of an attitude problem.

And it didn't look very happy about having to chase its snack across the park.

"Half-blood! I will tear you apart!" it shouted and let out another roar, spittle flying everywhere.

"That's why," Nico said, scrambling to his feet.

He yanked insistently at Percy, hauling him up just before the monster smashed its fist on the path where they had been sitting. The pavement cracked under the pressure, leaving a sizeable impression in the ground. Oh, the park supervisor was _not _going to be pleased with them tomorrow…

"Holy _shit_," Percy replied, pulling a pen out of the pocket of his sweatpants as the monster advanced a few feet and they backpedaled toward the baseball fields. "What did you _do_, Nico?"

"_Me_?" Nico demanded, dodging another swipe from the monster. A few feet from him, Percy clicked the top of his pen, and Riptide appeared, the Celestial Bronze glowing in the gloom. The monster snarled at the sight, and advanced. "I didn't – I'm not _you_, Percy! I just stumbled across this thing!"

"Where's your sword?" Percy demanded, glancing in his direction. "You can't expect me to fight this by myself!"

"I left it at home!"

"Oh, you've got to be _kidding_ – "

Percy's next words were cut off as ducked as the monster swung a claw at him, and he thrust his sword upwards, stabbing it in the palm. The monster howled and backed away momentarily, but the wound only seemed to enrage it further because the next thing it did was grab the metal bleachers from the baseball field and toss it at them.

Nico yelped and dived in one direction, while Percy did the same in the opposite direction. The bleachers slammed down in middle of the field, kicking up a cloud of dust and missing him by a few feet. Nico rolled away, coughing, and caught sight of a giant shadow moving toward him in the dust. He had to do something to give them more time, otherwise they'd both get smashed…

He reached out and laid his palm on top of the dirt, forcing all of his concentration on the ground below him.

_Please_, he pleaded, calling out to the minerals of the earth. The ground trembled beneath him as the monster approached, and Nico pushed back his fear, concentrating. _Come forth. Lend yourself to the son of Hades!_

"NICO!"

He glanced up just in time to see the huge palm crashing toward him, and he had just enough time to move so he could avoid the brunt of the blow. He couldn't avoid it completely though, and the monster swatted at him like a particularly annoying fly, knocking him the pitchers mound. Nico's head smashed into the ground and he lay there, face down in the dirt, ears ringing and gasping for breath. He could feel something warm trickling through the back of his head, and he was pretty sure at least one of his ribs was broken –

He could only lay there, helpless as his senses recovered, and the monster grabbed him by the legs, hoisting him off the ground, upside down. Percy was shouting something at him from down below, but he couldn't focus enough to understand what it was.

A gust of hot, moist air blew against his face. Nico didn't want to, but he looked down anyway and, once his gaze cleared, he groaned out loud. He was dangling above the monster's gaping mouth, and he could see all the way down its slimy throat.

"One demigod down," the monster gurgled, moving Nico closer to his mouth. "One more to go!"

In the split second before he was dropped to his untimely doom, Nico closed his eyes and reached out toward the ground, praying with all his might.

_PLEASE HELP!_

He felt something tugging at his gut, pulling upwards and upwards and…

The ground underneath the monster split open, and Nico swayed in the monster's grip as it trained to regain its footing.

"What – "

"Sorry," Nico said, feeling the power of the earth course through him, "but the sons of the Underworld really don't digest well."

He had enough time to savor the monster's wide eyed look of horror, before Nico yanked his hand upwards. The ground followed his movement, surging forward and impaling the monster from the bottom up. The monster's grip slackened on Nico's ankles and its eyes rolled back in its head just before it burst into dark smoke.

Nico didn't have time to congratulate himself for a job well done, for as soon as the monster disappeared, so did the support keeping him suspended in the air. He dropped like a stone, and probably would've broken several more important bones, had he not landed on top of Percy.

Again.

Gods, he was going to be hearing about this for _ages_.

"Nice improvisation, but I am _not_ your stunt mat, di Angelo," Percy grumbled, sounding fairly disgruntled. "Could you please stop falling on me?"

"You're invincible, like it could hurt that much," Nico wheezed, rolling off of Percy and kneeling on all fours, his head swimming. "_Oooh_, the ground isn't supposed to swirl like that, is it?"

"You're lucky that thing didn't knock your brains right out of your head," the older man said, the dirt crunching as he got to his feet. He grabbed Nico's arm and tugged him to his feet, despite his protests to the contrary. Percy threw Nico's arm over his shoulder and started dragging him away from the scene. "C'mon, we've got to get moving. The cops will be here in a couple of minutes, and I really liked not having my name on the evening news the last couple of years."

Percy was telling the truth – Nico could hear the distant wail of police and emergency vehicle sirens coming ever closer to the park – but Nico was pretty sure he had a concussion on top of all his injuries and that walking up right was not going to do him any favors right now.

"I'm going to hurl if you jostle me like that again!"

"Well, we're going to walk unless you have enough focus to shadow travel to my apartment…"

Shadow traveling while he was injured and tired probably wasn't the best idea in the world, but it sounded a whole lot better than walking around with his brain knocking against his skull every few seconds.

"Stop moving and hang on," Nico mumbled, wrapping his other arm around Percy's waist and concentrating.

He felt the shadows reach out for them, and a moment later, the feel of the cool night air and the sounds of the police sirens had faded into the hot, stuffy space with the sounds of the humming refrigerator that was Percy's apartment kitchen across the city.

"Nice," Percy said. "Although could you maybe aim a little to the left next time? My leg's in the garbage can – hey, Nico!"

Nico's legs buckled under him and he dropped to the floor. Percy dropped down beside him a second later, overturning the garbage can in the process.

"Oh shit, your head's bleeding. Dammit, Nico, you're such an _idiot _–"

Percy's curses were the last thing Nico heard before the darkness claimed him and he passed out.

**-o-**

Awareness came back to him slowly. Nico regained feeling in his limbs first, realizing that his body ached a little less than he thought it should. He was lying on something soft and slightly lumpy, and he shifted restlessly. He moaned and heard someone's footsteps move closer to him.

He opened his eyes, and was immediately greeted with a pair of green orbs hovering anxiously above him. Nico groaned in misery.

"Go away, Dare," he mumbled, throwing an arm over his face. "I don't want to see you ugly face right now."

A moment later, ice cold water was dumped on his face and Nico sat up, spluttering and fully awake. Percy was standing over him, a glass of water in one hand and an irritated expression on his face.

"Percy," Nico said stupidly, realizing he was lying on Percy's sofa in the middle of his apartment. "What…?"

"I'm glad you think I'm pretty enough to be confused with Rachel, but I don't think she'd think of it as a compliment," Percy replied, setting the glass down on the coffee table. "Other than confusing the two of us, how are you feeling?"

"Uh… a lot better, actually," he replied, touching his head experimentally. It was a little tender, as if he'd had the wound for a few days and it was nearly finished healing. "How long was I out?"

"Maybe about an hour. Your head injury was more superficial than anything, but you did have two broken ribs. The ambrosia should've cleared that up for you, and you should be back to normal if you hang out for a few more minutes," Percy said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him and crossing his arms over his chest. "Like I said before, you were _really_ lucky that that thing didn't bash your brains out all over that baseball field. What were you thinking, trying to take on a monster that size without a weapon?"

Nico felt himself blush in embarrassment; it'd been a long time since he'd been lectured by Percy and he suddenly felt like he was twelve years old again, playing his first game of Capture the Flag at Camp Half-Blood.

"In case you didn't notice, I was _running away_ from it, not fighting it," Nico clarified a little indignantly. "I felt something weird and I went to go check on it. I wasn't expecting to find the monster. I mean, you felt it, didn't you? That's why you were in the park, right?"

Percy shook his head.

"I jog in Central Park on Wednesday nights. I didn't know anything was wrong until you showed up," he replied. Nico frowned at this, and he hastened to add, "That doesn't mean you didn't feel something. You're loads better at sensing that sort of stuff than I am…besides, what _was_ that thing?"

Nico's stomach turned, and this time he was sure it wasn't because he was about to throw up.

"You didn't recognize it either?" he asked, and the older boy shook his head again. Nico sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, shit. That's not good."

Percy leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "Do you think this monster has anything to do with whoever is trying to kill Rachel?"

He hadn't had time to contemplate something like that, but he wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibility. After all, strange monsters just didn't show up in Central Park, very close to the hub of Olympian power, without a seriously good reason…

"Probably? I dunno, it seemed more interested in eating me than anything else," he replied. "Although I don't think I'd be too upset if that thing tried to eat Rachel right now."

"Oh? What'd she do to you now?"

Nico sank back into the sofa, his frustration from earlier coming back to him. He glanced away from Percy, staring at one of the pictures on the wall behind him.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That bad, huh?" Percy got up, walking the five or so feet into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Water, please," Nico said, even though it was the last thing he wanted. He was on the job, after all; he couldn't go back drunk if he needed to protect Rachel later on, although he was sure the alcohol would improve his attitude greatly.

Percy tossed a bottle of water at him, and Nico caught it deftly – it was probably the only thing he had done right all night.

"Well, you better get over whatever she did to piss you off by Friday night, because I'll make other plans if the two people I'm supposed to hang out with won't even talk to each other."

Nico frowned in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"Rachel didn't tell you?" Nico shook his head, feeling stupider than normal, and took a long drink from the water bottle. "Oh, it's no big deal or anything. It's just one of our stupid, going back-to-school traditions. We get together at someone's apartment, watch a movie, and get ragingly drunk. It's fun."

"I'm sure it is. I don't think I'll be participating, though, since as of today, I have been relegated to the status of _the help_," Nico replied dryly, finishing off his water and crumpling it up. He tossed it into Percy's recycling bin by the door.

"She told you _that_? You must've really pissed her off," Percy said, sitting down on the coffee table again. "Now I want to know what _you_ did to _her_."

"I didn't do anything. I just said some things she didn't want to hear, that's all," he said. The older man motioned at him to continue, and even though he'd rather be doing a million other things – including being digested by that stupid monster – than confessing his failure of a love life to Percy Jackson, he let the story flow out of him anyway. "She was upset, I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong and somehow that all led to me confessing that I kind of sort of like her, all right? I was already mad because she called me _the help_, but then she didn't even acknowledge that I'd said something like that important, so it pissed me off even more."

Percy looked at him like he was a particularly stupid and slimy slug attached to the bottom of his shoe.

"What was she supposed to do? She's the Oracle, Nico. You know – "

"I know, all right!" Nico said, lashing out and kicking the coffee table's leg. Percy caught his leg before he could pull it back in and glared daggers at him; Nico tugged it out of his grasp and then leaned back into the sofa petulantly. "I know I like her and I can't have her, but it's not about that. It's about the fact that she doesn't even think of me as a friend…"

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly.

"Look, I'm going to be straight with you and if you kick any of my furniture again, you're getting your skinny ass booted out of this apartment," he said, his expression intense. "Technically, you _are_ the help. You're not there to be Rachel's friend – you're her bodyguard, remember? Your job is to keep her safe, no matter how much it makes her hate you. You can't protect her to the best of your abilities when you're more worried about whether or not she likes you, after all."

What Percy was saying wasn't anything new to Nico. Hadn't he thought the very same things after the monster had visited her apartment almost a week and half ago? What had he done to change any of that? He'd only grown closer to Rachel since then, grown more attached to her, to the point that he could no longer separate his personal feelings from his professional.

Hearing Percy say this out loud only reconfirmed that. He shouldn't be trying to be Rachel's friend; he shouldn't be trying to be Rachel's _anything_.

And yet…

Nico thought Rachel needed a friend more than a bodyguard right now, just like he needed more than a fruitless job. Just because he was the son of Hades didn't mean he didn't have emotions or didn't feel like everyone else – he wasn't some robot and he didn't _want _to be one. He knew could be both a friend and protector for Rachel if he tried, and if she wanted him to.

If only she would let him prove that to her instead of pushing him away – truly, this was the real reason he was so angry with her.

"I know," Nico said miserably. "I just want more than I can possibly have."

Percy smiled sadly. "Don't we all?"

**-o-**

All the lights were on in the living room and kitchen, and the TV was on full blast when he got back later that night. Nico frowned at this, noticing that Rachel wasn't in either of the rooms. She could be such a damn hypocrite about all of her stupid environmentally friendly rules, and he wasn't going to miss a chance when he could yell at her, especially since he was still vaguely mad at her.

"You left the lights on, Dare!" he shouted, toeing his boots off and throwing them in the corner by the terrace doors. "And I'm not turning them off for your lazy ass!"

There was no answering reply, which made Nico's frown deepen and his uneasy feeling grow. He wandered through the living room, and into the kitchen where he was met with a disconcerting sight. The refrigerator door had been left wide open and a bottle of wine had been shattered on the floor in front of it, the red liquid pooled on the floor and spattered on the edges of the counter, looking an awful lot like blood.

The hairs on the back of Nico's neck stood up. No, this is _not_ what he needed after he'd just recovered from a monster fight…

"Rachel?" he called, walking toward the main hallway. The hallway was dark except for the light streaming out of the open doorway to Rachel's studio. If he hadn't been alerted by everything else, that sight alone would've been enough to tell him that something was wrong – Rachel _never_ kept her studio door open.

He glanced into her studio. He couldn't see her among the forest of canvases and papers in front of the door, but he heard rustling further in and he quietly moved into the room.

Nico let out a perceptible sigh of relief when he finally caught sight of Rachel in front of canvas, seated with her back to him and painting so furiously that her movements were nearly a blur.

"Dare, you left a big ass mess in the kitchen in your hurry to be the next Monet, and I'm not going to clean it up," he said, pausing behind her. She said nothing, continuing to paint and he cocked his head, trying to see if she was wearing earbuds – she wasn't. "Unless you want that to be part of my duties as the _help_ now or something, but since I've already fought my monster quota for the week…"

Once again, she didn't respond and Nico's uneasy feeling returned. He reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Rachel?"

Her spine stiffened as his fingers brushed her shoulder, and she whipped around. Nico bit back a gasp and stumbled backward in shock: Rachel's expression was twisted and fierce, made even more so by the streaks of paint across her face and her terrible, glowing green eyes. Nico had only seen Rachel like this once, right after she had accepted the power of the Oracle, and it had scared him witless then, just like it was doing now.

"I," the Oracle of Delphi said, her voice deep and echoing. The sound caused a chill to run down Nico's spine, "am not Rachel Elizabeth Dare, son of Hades."

Nico nodded dumbly, finding it hard to speak.

"I can see that," he rasped, his throat tight with fear. He was more frightened of this woman in front of him than he had been of that stupid monster in the park.

"Do you wish to speak to me?"

"Um…" he squeaked. "No?"

She stared him down with her glowing eyes, and he could feel something in her gaze compelling him to ask her a question. He could find out everything he ever wanted if he just looked into her eyes and asked one simple question…

Nico tore his gaze away from her, panting from the effort. He didn't dare look at her again until he heard the sound of the paintbrush sweeping against the canvas and he sneaked a peek to make sure she wasn't paying attention to him.

"Well," Nico said, clearing his throat after his voice cracked. "I'll just leave you…to your painting then…uh…Oracle."

As he backed a few steps toward the door, she suddenly stopped moving and her body went slack. She slipped sideways off her chair, landing with a loud thump on the floor. Nico let out a yell in alarm, and scrambled through the canvases to get to her side.

"Oracle?" he whispered, dropping beside her and pulling her carefully into his arms. "Can you hear me?"

He gently touched her face. Her skin was cold and clammy, and he quickly moved to check her pulse at her wrist. It was sluggish, but steady, and her breathing was a little too shallow for his liking. He gave her a tiny shake; she groaned and stirred in his arms. Her eyes fluttered and when she opened them, Nico let out a breath he hadn't been aware that he was holding – her eyes were back to normal.

"Nico?" Rachel whispered groggily, trying to move. "What…?"

"Don't move," Nico said, cradling her closer to him to keep her still. "I think you bumped your head."

"What happened?" Rachel asked faintly, her eyes tired and glazed. "Why am I in my studio? I don't remember…"

"The Oracle. She…uh…she decided to take your body out for some midnight painting, I guess."

Rachel groaned, closing her eyes and reaching up to rub her temples with one hand. She pulled away after a moment, making a face as she glanced at her paint-covered hand.

"That explains the splitting headache then. I haven't blacked out like this in a long time."

His throat went dry with fear. "This has happened before?"

"When I was still getting used to hosting her power, yeah. I'd wake up somewhere, usually the art room at Clarion, and I wouldn't remember how I got there. Everyone thought I had a drinking problem or was doing drugs…" Rachel shrugged, a humorless smile crossing her face. "That's why I started painting late at night. The Oracle can work subconsciously and if I give her the time and space, she'll do it without this taking over my body bullshit."

Rachel's eyes moved away from his face and scanned the room. He followed her gaze, finally taking note of the circle of paintings surrounding them. They were crude, hurried scribbles painted with dark and frightening colors, not at all like Rachel's other paintings. It was almost as though they had been painted by someone else's hand entirely.

Nico glanced at the one Rachel – _the Oracle_ – had been working on when he had walked in, and he had to do a double take. It was a painting of the monster he had just fought, right down to its squashed nose, the drool dribbling down its chin and the fierce expression on its face. How had she…?

Oh right. She was the Oracle. She knew everything.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked, twisting so she could look over his shoulder. She wrinkled her nose, a movement which looked rather intriguing with all that paint on her face. "Oh, ugh. She _never_ paints nice things."

She continued to chat aimlessly, and Nico tuned her out as he took a closer look at all the other paintings. They were glimpses of bloodied teeth and gangly limbs with sharp claws attached; terrifying faces with red eyes and cunning, cruel expression – it was a portrait collection of monsters.

Nico had never seen any of these before, not even in the darkest pits of the Underworld, just like he had never run across anything quite like the monster tonight.

It worried him, more than he would admit out loud. How was he supposed to protect Rachel from something he didn't know how to fight? And did the appearance of these monsters mean that the _real_ enemy was someone they didn't know either?

He started in surprise as he felt fingers graze the side of his face. He turned his gaze back to Rachel. Her brows were scrunched with worry as she traced the scratches on the side of his face, one of the few physical remnants of his fight with the monster.

"Nico?" she asked, seeming utterly exhausted. "How'd…how'd you get this? And why are you so dirty?"

He repressed a shudder at the feel of her fingers. He couldn't deal with this now, not after the conversation he'd had with Percy.

"We can talk about it later. Can you stand?"

"Maybe."

Nico stood and gingerly helped her to her feet. She only stayed upright for a few seconds before her knees buckled and he caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Not being able to walk seems to be a common theme for you, Dare," Nico grumbled, dipping so he could sweep her up and carry her out of the studio.

She was light and warm in his arms, and she pressed her head against his shoulder. It was a little disturbing about how compliant she was being about the whole thing, but she probably just didn't have the energy to be difficult, he reasoned. He'd exhausted himself using his powers more times than he could count, but unlike her, at least he had the _choice_ to use them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his neck as he moved into the hallway and toward her bedroom.

"You don't have to apologize for that, Dare. That was out of your control."

"That's not what I meant."

Nico glanced down at her briefly. The fear from the Oracle's appearance and the panic after her collapse had replaced Nico's rage and frustration from earlier tonight, and he had forgotten he was supposed to be mad at Rachel right now. He tried to summon those emotions again, and found that he couldn't. It just wasn't worth it.

"Just forget about it, Dare," he said, opening her bedroom door. He reached out and flipped the light on. "I'm so used to rejection, it could be my middle name by now. You don't have to apologize for not being attracted to me – "

"That's the problem, though," Rachel said, her voice stronger than before. "I'm kind of ridiculously attracted to you."

Nico stilled, his annoyance overcoming the little flutter of his heart almost instantly. Oh, so _now_ she was attracted to him, huh? How and when had she decided that? She might be able to boss him around and make him do everything else for her, but Rachel would not be allowed to play with his feelings like this. They were too precious for him to let her play with them on whim.

"No, you're not," he said, setting her down on her bed a little rougher than he had intended. He stepped away from her, and she sat up, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed. "You're not really interested in me, and the sooner you stop deluding yourself, the happier we'll both be."

"Oh, we're so not having this stupid argument again," Rachel sighed, reaching out and grabbing a handful of his shirt.

With a surprising amount of strength, she tugged him forward and before Nico quite knew what was happening, his mouth was on Rachel's and she was kissing him. It wasn't very good and it was kind of sloppy, but _holy shit _he was_ kissing Rachel Elizabeth Dare_ and she was _kissing him back_ and this was possibly the best thing that ever happened to him and _oh shit_, Apollo was going to _murder him_ –

She pulled away before the full force of what just happened could hit him. Under all the paint, her cheeks were pink, eyes gleaming like emeralds, and lips wet, and she was honestly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. And she had just _kissed_ him, without provocation. What did this mean? What…how was he supposed to respond to that?

"You taste like paint," he blurted out, unable to help himself.

Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion, but then her face split into a beautiful smile and she began to laugh.

"You've got paint all on your face now, Nico," she said, wiping tears of laughter from her face with the back of her hand. It only served to smear the paint on her face some more, making her look even worse. "You look hilarious, I wish you could see it."

Nico wanted to join her in her laughter, but the confusion in his heart and the other emotions rolling through him prevented him from doing so. He couldn't tell if he was angry or happy or if this kiss had completely terrified him out of his mind, and he didn't know _why_ she had done this to him after he was so sure she could never return his feelings…

"Why'd you do that, Dare?" he asked suddenly, and she stopped laughing immediately.

"Because I think you're handsome and funny and brave, and I wanted to kiss you. You weren't going to believe me if I told you…so I decided to show you instead," she said, meeting his gaze evenly. "You know I wouldn't risk my position like this if I wasn't sincere…if I wasn't sure about how I felt about you in the slightest."

Nico stared at her for a long time, trying to unnerve her and make her show her true feelings in some way, but his scrutiny only seemed to make her bolder and more confident. She wasn't wearing her moonstone necklace, so he couldn't tell what she was feeling and if it was anything like what he was feeling right now…

It took him a very long time to say something in response, he was that flabbergasted by the turn of events.

"So," he said at last, running a hand through his hair. "We like each other, then?"

"I'd say so, yes."

"But we can't do anything? Like date or whatever?"

Rachel's expression fell just enough to confirm Nico's fears.

"Yeah. I'd imagine I really pushed it with that kiss," she said slowly, running a hand through her hair. "What we just did…it can't happen again. I don't know what you were – "

Nico didn't let her finish, moving in and sealing his mouth over hers. If he wasn't going to get to kiss her again anytime soon, he wanted to make sure the one kiss she had from him was something worth remembering, not that sloppy little peck from before. He deepened the kiss, sliding his hand into her hair and pulling her close to him. He wanted to memorize every bit of her – her taste, the warmth of her lips, the feel of her against him – so he'd always remember what this moment had been like.

"Oh _wow_," Rachel sighed, breaking away and looking a little dazed. She reached up to touch her lips with her fingers, and then looked at him. "You're…you're way too good at that."

He grinned, leaning a hand on her bed beside her. "I know."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Someone's sure full of himself."

"For good reason," he whispered against her lips, and kissed her for a third time. She didn't protest, and returned his kiss with equal fervor. She was a quick study, and she knew just how to respond to him. Nico imagined she'd be as a quick in similar areas of study, and that thought stoked the fires of desire within him to new heights. He wanted more of her, much more than this…

Before he could lose his control and do something that would ruin them both, a distant rumble of thunder sounded overhead warningly, and Rachel pressed a hand against his chest. He pulled away reluctantly, shooting a glare at the ceiling. Damn Olympians, always sticking their nose in places where they didn't belong…

"We should stop," Rachel said breathlessly, and Nico felt a rush of pleasure as he took in her mussed appearance. _He_ had done that, not anyone else, and she had let him do that.

"We've already stopped," he said unnecessarily, and she leveled a glare at him.

"You know what I mean. We can't do this ever again. And I mean it this time."

"Otherwise I'll get barbequed."

"Yes," she said, her fingers still entwined within the material of his shirt. They were still fairly close to each other, close enough to be in danger of another kiss or two, and Nico found he really didn't care much at all about being barbequed so long as he could just stay like this for a little longer.

He knew that at this moment that Rachel wasn't thinking of him as her demigod bodyguard or that annoying kid from camp. He was just plain, old Nico to her – the man she was willing to break vows to kiss – and that's all he had ever wanted from her.

* * *

**Next time on Death's Dare:** Hades and Apollo have a little chat, while Nico meets Mr. Dare...and I mean it this time!

**IMPORTANT NOTE:** Death's Dare is taking a month-long hiatus at the beginning of November as I will be competing in **National Novel Writing Month** (NaNoWriMo), a challenge which asks competitors to write 50,000 words in one month. As I'm already almost 40,000 words into Death's Dare, it's not eligible for the competition. I will be writing a completely different Percy Jackson fan fic for NaNo though, so the wait may not be completely fruitless! An update for DD during November depends almost completely on how my word count is doing for the NaNo fic.

Thanks for understanding, and I'll see you in December.


	8. Fathers

**Author's notes: **Well, it has been a long time, hasn't it? Sorry this took so long to get out between the end of November and now. I wrote quite a few other things before I did this, and then finals had snuck up on me, and before I quite knew it, it was almost Christmastime and I still hadn't updated. I'll try to be quick with the next chapter, as I'll be out of the country for about a week and a half in January with no Internet or computer access, and then school will be starting up again, so we'll just see how that goes. I hope you enjoy this one!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Fathers**

"Good morning."

Rachel paused mid-wiping motion, and glanced up from her position on the floor of the kitchen. Nico was standing on the other side of the island, leaning on the counter with his chin propped on his hand and the tiniest of grins on his face, obviously enjoying the view from up there. She huffed in annoyance.

"How long have you been standing around and staring at my ass?" she asked, sitting back on her haunches and putting her hands on her hips.

Nico's grin widened. "Long enough to know sweatpants really don't do you any favors, Dare. Makes you look all lumpy."

She frowned, and tossed her wash rag at his face. He ducked, and it landed with a splat somewhere behind him.

"Now that wasn't very nice," he said, shaking his finger at her.

"Neither was calling my ass _lumpy_," she snapped, pushing herself off her knees and standing. "Or leaving this mess here when you came home, and waiting for me to find it and clean it up in the morning."

In fact, she had discovered the broken wine bottle on the floor by nearly stepping on a giant shard of glass while on her way to get coffee. She'd been so angry about it, she'd almost marched straight into his room and hauled him out of his bed to clean it up, but she figured his whining wouldn't be worth the trouble and she'd probably clean it much better than he would anyway. She'd been scrubbing at the tile for the last twenty minutes, at least, and she'd barely made a dent – the marble tile was probably stained for good, and her father was not going to be pleased by this the next time he stopped by.

Nico frowned, glancing at the floor, and then recognition lit up his eyes after a moment.

"That was there when I came home. _You_ made that mess, not me," he said. "And I did tell you about it, but I think you were in Oracle mode, so…yeah, you obviously missed that."

Rachel leaned on the counter, mimicking his position, and propping her own chin on her hand.

"And you couldn't have cleaned it up because…?" she said.

Nico inched himself closer to her, almost so close that their noses touched, and Rachel's heart began to pound just a little quicker in her chest. Really, it was embarrassing that he could have such an effect on her in such a short amount of time, especially since she had already kissed him and this sort of feeling should be out of her system. Right? Right.

Oh, who was she kidding? There was no way she'd be able to get Nico out of her system, not after she'd only had the tiniest taste of him. She only wanted more, and that want was beginning to override every other sensation and thought she had.

Judging by the way he had been looking at her like a particularly delicious piece of dessert since she'd noticed him in the kitchen, Nico was having the same problem.

"Bodyguard, remember?" he said smugly. "Picking up after you is not in the contract…unless you'd rather me stop to clean the next time I think you're in mortal peril?"

"I think I need to take a look at this contract because that seems to be your main excuse to avoid doing things," she replied with a sigh, reaching forward to hook her finger in his collar. His eyes flashed, and she tugged him the few remaining centimeters toward her until their foreheads bumped together. "Is kissing still out of the contract?"

"I thought you said we couldn't do that anymore," he said, his voice a low rumble in his throat. Despite the hesitant reminder in his voice, his lips pressed against the bridge of her nose and one of his hands reached up to touch the line of her throat.

"One more wouldn't hurt, I think."

Rachel felt electricity run straight down to the tips of her toes as Nico's lips brushed against hers. Unlike their kisses last night, this one was slow and languid, almost lazy in nature, and she loved every second of it. Maybe it was the seven year dry spell messing with her senses, but she really didn't think so, but there was just something about the way Nico kissed her, like she was the only girl in the world.

"Mmm," she said, pulling away from him and grinning. "If only you had cleaned that mess up, this would've been the perfect morning."

"I shut the fridge door last night," he replied, angling his head downward again. "I think that earns me another kiss at the very least…"

Rachel dodged his lips as he tried to move in for another kiss, and then danced out of his grip as he tried to reel her back in. The put out look on his face made her laugh.

"You are no fun, Dare," he sighed, resigned, and pushed himself off the counter. He moved toward the refrigerator. "If you want anything for breakfast, you are probably going to have to grab it now because I am _starving_. Damn monsters always work up my appetite…"

Rachel paused as she bent down to move the bucket of soap and water out of the way, a heavy feeling settling in her stomach.

"Monsters?" she repeated curiously.

"Yeah," Nico replied, pausing by the fridge door, his fingers fidgeting on the door handle. "Um, there was a monster attack in Central Park last night. That's where I got these."

He gestured at the light scratches on his cheek, and Rachel's mouth went dry. New York City was the monster capital of the world, so it wasn't like this was out of the ordinary and it didn't necessarily mean it was part of the group that was after her. But considering the last monster had shown up on her doorstep and Nico had been attracted to this one too…

"Did you know what it was after?" she asked, hoping her tone came across as casual as she wanted it to.

He shook his head. "I didn't even know what it _was_. Percy didn't either."

"You had to call in Percy to help you out?" she arched an eyebrow. "Was all that demigod bodyguard of death stuff false advertising?"

He glared at her, clearly not happy that she was questioning his fighting prowess. Rachel knew how good of a fighter Nico was – she'd watched him spar back when he'd been at Camp Half-Blood, after all, and if he was still as half as deadly as he had been back when he was fourteen, she was in good hands.

"I ran into him. I'm sure he'll tell you all about when he comes over on Friday or whatever," Nico replied, opening the refrigerator and sticking his head inside. "Since when does he _jog_, by the way?"

Nico bent down to grab something off the lower shelves in the fridge, and Rachel was momentarily distracted by the lovely sight of his boxer briefs sticking out from the top of his jeans.

"Since he turned 21, gained a beer belly, and I made fun of him mercilessly. But you're avoiding the subject. You said you didn't know what the monster was? How is that possible?"

He glanced back at her, shrugging. "What do I look like, the _Monster Book of Monsters_? I haven't fought every monster in existence, seriously. Besides, you're the one who painted it last night too."

"I painted it?" she asked, her brows knitting in confusion.

"You – the Oracle, I mean," he corrected, pulling out a carton of eggs, milk, and a loaf of bread and setting it on the countertop next to her. "It's the one in the middle, the ugly one with the bigass nose and fangs."

Usually the things she painted while under the Oracle's spell didn't happen for months, or years if luck held out. It was rare for her to predict anything the day it happened, and even rarer to miss something as big as an unknown monster showing up in Manhattan, out for blood.

Was the danger moving so close that she wouldn't be able to foresee it in time? Was something blocking the Oracle of Delphi's communication? Or…or maybe she just wasn't going to be around in the next couple of weeks to be the host of the Oracle anymore?

Rachel had contemplated her own mortality several times before – it tended to happen when you lived with demigods during the summer, after all – but the threat of death had never seemed more real than it did now. It was certainly something she didn't want to contemplate first thing in the morning, after she had just been kissed for the first time in ages.

"I'll have to look for it then," she said softly, leaning back on the counter as the unsettled feeling in her stomach grew worse. "You don't think…it wasn't looking for me, was it?"

"Well, when I came across it, it was just hungry, but I'm not counting it out of the realm of possibilities," he replied, grabbing the orange juice as well before he closed the refrigerator. He must've caught the concerned expression on her face because he set the juice aside and reached for her a moment later. "Hey, don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you while I'm around, I swear."

She fisted her hands in his t-shirt, pulling him closer to her as one of his arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his forehead against hers. Somehow, this embrace felt more intimate than any kiss they had shared before.

"I know," she said as his hand touched her cheek. "I trust you, Nico. Just…don't do anything stupid, all right?"

He snorted, his eyes alight with amusement. "Didn't we decide that you were the one who does the stupid, dangerous things around here?"

"Then just don't do anything I wouldn't do, and you'll be fine."

"Well, that leaves me with a very small list then," he said, grinning.

Even though the dark feeling in her stomach wouldn't quite go away, Nico's teasing made her feel just a bit lighter inside. She was a worrier – it was unavoidable when you could see the future and most of your friends defied death on a regular basis – but Nico had the unique ability of being able to make her forget all of that. Probably because she spent most of her time being annoyed by him rather than anything else.

"I guess I'll have to behave myself and be a good little Oracle from now on then," she replied, sliding her hand up his chest to fiddle with his shirt collar. She loved the way his eyes narrowed at her movement, and how he shifted just a little bit closer to her, so the small of her back was digging into the counter now.

No wonder Apollo didn't want the Oracles getting mixed up in physical relationships with other people – the ability to affect people in this way, the feeling of being desired and wanted by someone else was intoxicating to the point of forgetfulness.

"I happen to like it when you misbehave, Dare," Nico said, his voice low. His expression was no longer teasing, and she absolutely couldn't believe he had said that with a straight face. She couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped her in response.

"Oh my god, what shitty romance novel did you steal that line from?" she said, trying to muffle her giggles. "Because seriously, no one says those things in real – "

Nico slammed his lips on top of hers midsentence, effectively transforming her giggles into a satisfied moan. This kiss was rougher than the last one, their lips and tongues sliding desperately against each other. Rachel pulled him in deeper, wanting as much of him as she could get, and she shuddered as his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, his rough fingers dancing along her skin and – and oh, this was _so_ the wrong time to be thinking about her fantasy in the kitchen from earlier –

And then Rachel heard the most unwelcome sound in the world – someone clearing their throat impatiently. Someone who wasn't obviously Nico or herself, and who sounded an awful lot like…

Oh, gods.

Rachel's eyes popped open in horror.

It couldn't be. It absolutely could not be. If there was one person besides Apollo she did _not_ want to catch her in the middle of making out with a good looking boy, it was him. Why had he picked today, of all days, to visit? This technically wasn't his apartment anymore! He couldn't just drop by unannounced, and oh gods, this was absolutely ridiculous!

"Oh, _fuck_," she said, pulling away from Nico, who had gone deathly still, and glancing over her shoulder, toward the kitchen doorway where one Mr. Warren Dare was standing, arms crossed over his chest and looking entirely unamused by the sight in front of him.

"Rachel," he said, drawling her name out in the way he did when he was severely unhappy with her. His gaze was focused on the spot on her back where she knew Nico's hand was still under her shirt.

"Um," she said breathlessly, feeling her face flushing in mortification. "Hi Daddy."

**-o-**

The problem with being the Lord of the Dead was that none of one's immortal relatives tended to realize how busy one was on a daily basis. Death didn't stop at sunrise or sunset, and it didn't take a break whenever it felt like it or because it was bored.

No, death was constant, and so was Lord Hades's never-ending pile of work.

Even though he reminded them of this every time they decided to invade his domain for whatever petty reason or another, his relatives still took it upon themselves just to drop in whenever they damn well felt like it. He didn't mind the messenger god's visits as much, because Hermes actually proved useful and brought information for him, unlike Aphrodite, who constantly begged him to let some mortal idiot out of the Underworld because there hadn't been an epic romance like that in centuries or Zeus, who seemed to be making a habit of stopping by and bragging to him about how _lively_ things were in the mortal realm every second Tuesday of the month just because he could.

There was a clear correlation between this uptick in visits from his relations and his recent instatement on the Olympian council, so Hades had found at least one downside to finally being fully accepted on Mount Olympus. Yet another thing he had to thank that odious brat Percy Jackson for.

So Hades had been less than thrilled when Alecto arrived to drop off the messages for the day, and subsequently informed him that Apollo was waiting in the throne room for an audience.

"And he does not look pleased, if I do say so myself," the fury cackled, looking wickedly delighted. There was nothing she cared about more than inflicting misery, no matter if her master was the receiving end of it or not.

Hades sighed in irritation, moving aside his paperwork, and reaching up to rub his temples. It was such a mortal gesture – one he had undoubtedly picked up after spending time so much time with shades over the millennia, and one that seemed appropriate considering the god he would have to talk to in a short while.

"I will meet him there in a moment," he responded, dismissing the fury with a wave of his hand. Alecto nodded, flapping her wings restlessly, and left the room.

Hades rose from his chair, wondering what his obnoxious nephew could want with him today. Out of all the gods, Apollo was the worst in terms of time wasting and the annoyance factor. His last few visits had been fairly unpleasant, mostly because the other immortal thought it would be amusing to speak only in iambic pentameter a few weeks ago when they had met to talk about that silly Oracle.

He sighed, figuring that was probably the reason Apollo had come to speak to him again so soon. If his son had gone and gotten the Oracle's host killed already, Hades would never hear the end of it from any of his relations. They were still whining about the curse he had put on the last Oracle, and at this rate, it was going to look like he had a vendetta against the poor thing.

Well, it wasn't _his_ fault that Oracles had fragile mortal bodies and tended to spout so much nonsense that they were in danger of getting themselves killed every day, and if they needed reminding of that…

Apollo was pacing in front of his throne when Hades entered the room, and the god looked up as he approached. He had cast aside his usual appearance of a ridiculous mortal teenager, settling for one that made him look several years older and much more serious. This piqued Hades's interest, as it could only mean something very interesting had been going on up on the surface world and this conversation wouldn't be a complete waste of his time. Probably.

"Uncle," Apollo greeted tersely, bowing as Hades approached his throne and sat down.

"Apollo," Hades said, inclining his head. "What brings you to my domain so soon after our last visit?"

"Your little bastard, that's what," Apollo snapped, eyes flashing angrily. Hades arched an eyebrow and the other god hastily corrected himself, "I mean, your _son_, Lord Uncle."

"Oh?" Hades replied, intrigued in spite of himself. Nico rarely did anything to draw attention to himself or make himself stand out amongst his demigod peers; he was a useless child in that respect, and hardly worthy of his immortal heritage. "And what has Nico done to earn your ire? Your Oracle's still alive, isn't she?"

"Instead of protecting my Oracle, he has spent all of his time seducing her!" Apollo exclaimed, looking murderous. "As soon as I am finished down here, I'm going straight up there to vaporize him. I knew I should've gotten one of my children to do it; they know how to respect their father's property…"

Out of all the things he had expected Apollo to complain about regarding Nico, this was the last thing that had been on Hades's mind. Complaining that he was an inexperienced and lazy lout, and couldn't t find his weapons if they were dangling right in front of his nose? To be sure. But a seduction attempt? That seemed terribly unlikely.

Granted, Hades hadn't spent much time with his son since the second war with the Titans, and when he did see the boy, their conversations were short and businesslike, so for all he knew, Nico could have turned into some kind of sleazy Lothario once he hit his late teenage years. But while Nico might be lazy, he wasn't an idiot, and even he would know that seducing Apollo's Oracle would be bad news for all parties involved.

"Has he now?" Hades replied, still unconvinced that this matter was worth his time. "And what do you count as seduction, exactly?"

Considering the amount of ways his relatives managed to seduce women and men alike, Hades wouldn't be surprised if Apollo considered Nico generally looking in the Oracle's direction as a seduction attempt. Depending on how attractive the Oracle was, he could be fairly overprotective of them, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare was a fairly good looking. For a mortal, at any rate.

Apollo glared him, as if he could tell what he was thinking, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Everything! For the moment he arrived, he has done nothing but flirt with her! He's hung up on Rachel like some – some desperate little puppy, craving to be petted by its masters, and obviously has been for quite some time if that damn mooning look on his face is any indication. Don't even get me started on the way he _touches_ her when they're together, and he's tried to get her into situations where she feels tempted. And – " he held up a finger, his eyes were beginning to glow gold with rage, " – and last night, he _kissed _her. Three. Times. And now they're going at each other like there's no tomorrow!"

Hades nodded impatiently, taking all of Apollo's evidence into consideration. While the fact that Nico had kissed the Oracle was something of interest (what part of, "Touch and die painfully!" didn't that boy understand?), everything else seemed to be the result of overreaction on Apollo's part, which he tended to do regarding his Oracles, considering he had an annoying habit of thinking himself in love with them.

"Did he force himself on her?" he asked lazily, glancing down to examine his fingernails. "If he did, you have my permission to do with him what you will. If she's still a virgin, however, I don't see why I should do anything about it."

He trailed off, waiting for a response. He already knew what Apollo's response would be – he had enough grasp on his son's character to know he would never touch someone without their explicit permission, and he had seen enough of the new Oracle to know _she_ wouldn't put up with anything like that from anyone, demigod or not. She'd probably give Nico a good run in the stubbornness department too.

"It was a mutual exchange," the other god admitted at last, rocking back on his heels uncomfortably. "Rachel instigated the first kiss, but that's beside the point. Your son provided the temptation in the first place, and you assured me when I first came to you that he would be no threat to my Oracle's purity – "

"And I thought he wouldn't be," Hades interrupted, glancing away from his nails and frowning at Apollo. "You know just as well as I do that I don't have the power to control the actions or the feelings of my children. Nico is free to do as he wishes, just as your Oracle is."

"No, she isn't," Apollo said, sounding quite a bit like a petulant child. "She swore herself to me, purity and all, and if I sense a threat, I have the right to exterminate it."

"Don't lecture me about your rights. _Kissing_ hardly counts as a threat to her virginity, considering the liberties you've let other Oracles take while under oath," the lord of death snapped, growing annoyed. He caught Apollo's surprised reaction out of the corner of his eye, and he continued. "Oh, don't act so shocked that I know these things, it does you no favors. Just because I haven't been up in Olympus with the rest of you fools for the last several millennia doesn't mean I don't hear the stories. Contrary to popular belief, dead men _do_ tell tales."

Apollo flushed, but whether it was out of anger or embarrassment, Hades didn't particularly care. He wasn't one to mince words, and Apollo did not frighten him, especially not when he was in his own realm.

"Considering this is the first Oracle I've had in seventy years, thanks to your little curse," Apollo shot a glare at him at this reminder, "you should understand why I feel a little differently about Rachel's situation than the others. Your son's seduction attempts are an insult to her and my honor, and I won't stand for it."

Hades let out a dark chuckle at this.

"An insult to your honor, _really_?" he said, propping his chin in his hands and staring at his nephew in amusement. "Now you're just being ridiculous. Let's – how do the mortals say it? – cut the bullshit, and get to your real problem with my son and your Oracle kissing: you don't like the fact that Rachel Dare is no longer lonely and won't fall for _your_ seduction attempts whenever you decide to give her attention. Isn't that why you instigated the virginity clause in the first place? So you'd always have some sad, innocent young woman to fall back on when you got bored?"

Apollo's face was beginning to purple with anger, and he looked like he wanted to grab the bow from off his back and shoot him in the chest with one of the arrows. But Hades was just getting started; he could be a downright unpleasant bastard if he got the chance, which his relatives had apparently forgotten over the years.

"Or if it's not that, are you just annoyed because you already tried your seduction gambit, she didn't fall for it, and you can't get over the fact that she clearly prefers my son over you? Maybe it's that the two of them might actually have real feelings for each other, and it's not just a bout of lust – "

"ENOUGH!" Apollo roared, his form glowing gold in rage. "If you won't do anything about it, I'll go to father. He'll have no problem punishing the boy, I'm sure. And I think you remember how well trying to defy a request went regarding the boy the last time, don't you?"

Whatever amusement Hades had earned from tormenting the younger god vanished in a moment, and he straightened in his throne immediately as his mind went blank with rage momentarily. The entire throne room began to tremble and, judging by the look on Apollo's face, the other god seemed to realize he had just made a very bad move.

"You listen to me, Phoebus Apollo, and listen well," he hissed, rising from his throne and growing to his full height so his head brushed the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "If you or Zeus or any those other fools on Olympus harm so much of a hair on my son's head, you will regret it. I will make every second of your immortal life living hell, and I won't stop there. Your children, your lovers, any mortals you might have blessed in the last _century_ will feel my wrath if the boy is harmed over a matter of your _pride_. Do you understand me?"

The ground rumbled once more in emphasis, reacting to his anger, and while Apollo looked a little more pale than he had before, he didn't look particularly contrite. Hades could still sense his arrogance, and it only incensed him further.

"I understand, _uncle_," Apollo replied tartly. "No harm will come to your son as long as he is _protecting_ the Oracle."

Apollo let the threat of what _would_ happen to Nico if he was caught stepping outside those bounds hang unsaid in the air. There was little Hades could do to deter him – as much as he hated to admit, the other god did have the right to retribution when it came to matters of dishonor and the others on the council would side with him in this matter.

"Then we're in agreement," Hades said slowly, shrinking in size as he gained control of his anger. "Nico will continue with his duties as a bodyguard, and you –you will leave my domain before I get truly angry."

Apollo said nothing, just bowed stiffly before disappearing in a furious flash of light. Hades glowered at the spot where he had been standing for a moment longer, before he rose from his throne and swept out of the room.

"Alecto!" he bellowed, and the fury appeared by his side in a matter of moments.

"Yes master?"

Hades knew his own threat had, at the very least, convinced the other god that rash retribution would not be in his best interests and that he would bide his time when it came to punishing Nico for his indiscretions with the Oracle. But if that boy didn't learn some self-control and stop while he was ahead, there would be little Hades could do to save him.

"I need you to head to the surface. I have a message for my son…"

* * *

**Next time on _Death's Dare_: **Someone else walks in on Nico and Rachel, and awkwardness ensues.


	9. Slow

**Author's notes:** Massive apologies for the wait for this chapter. I had most it typed out before I went to Belize, but it gave me quite a few issues when I came back. I ended up cutting a good chunk of this chapter to save for the next because it was getting too long and far too much was going on it it. Hopefully I'll be able to get on schedule with updates soon, but I'm not making any promises. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Slow**

In the past five or so years since he had developed a substantial sex drive, Nico had, thankfully, never had any awkward, morning after encounters with any of the parental units of the girls he had been intimately involved with. There had been that one time in Italy on his birthday where _his_ dad had appeared, quite literally out of nowhere, but then again, his dad was a Greek god; walking in on his son getting a hand job was probably the least surprising or awkward thing he had seen in a hundred years.

Of _course _he would ruin that streak when it came to Rachel. He never seemed to have any luck with her, which was unfortunate, because Warren Dare was one scary motherfucker.

It wasn't that Rachel's dad was particularly tall, buff, or otherwise physically intimidating that made him scary, because Mr. Dare was a fairly average looking guy with a receding hairline in his late forties.

No, the scary part was that the most powerful man in Manhattan – the one who had just been named the world's most influential billionaire two years in a row, and had finally settled a fifteen year turf war with Donald Trump that had left the other man crying into his ridiculous hairpiece on Larry King three months later – was glowering at him from across the room and probably thinking of a hundred different ways to break him mentally, financially, and then possibly physically.

He might not be a Greek god, but Warren Dare was not someone to make an enemy out of, that was for certain.

Nico supposed he was lucky that Mr. Dare had only caught him kissing Rachel rather than in a more compromising position – he had heard rumors that Mr. Dare had connections with the mafia and other shady organizations that probably wouldn't hesitate to break Nico's kneecaps for dabbling with the boss's daughter if it came around to it.

"Um," Rachel said, blushing furiously as she tried to untangle herself from his arms. "Hi Daddy. What – what are you doing here?"

Rachel gave him a hard shove in the chest, dislodging his hold on her, and causing him to stumble backwards a couple of inches. He regained his balanced after a moment, and ran a hand through his hair nervously, trying to look anywhere except at Mr. Dare or Rachel's mussed hair and wet lips.

"Your mother and I hadn't heard from you in a while so I just thought I'd check up on you, Rachel," Mr. Dare said tightly, glancing at his daughter briefly. "And now I think I know why."

His gaze returned to Nico almost immediately, and Nico gulped. He hadn't even said anything to Mr. Dare, and he could tell that the older man hated him already.

"You couldn't have called first?" Rachel asked, using the same tone she did when she thought he had done something particularly stupid. "Seriously, Dad, you can't just drop in without calling me – "

"Who's your friend, Rachel?" Mr. Dare interrupted, moving into the kitchen and pausing on the other side of the island. Except for an arched eyebrow, his expression was relatively impassive, but his shoulders were tight with tension. "I don't think I've met him before."

"Um," Rachel said, flicking a piece of hair behind her ears and glancing over her shoulder at him. "This is…"

"Nico," he said, his voice coming out as a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Nico di Angelo, sir. It's nice to meet you."

Mr. Dare looked him up and down speculatively, still not betraying an iota of emotion, before he said, "And how long did you know my daughter before you put your tongue down her throat, Mr. di Angelo?"

It was then that Nico wished Rachel had a first floor apartment so he could will the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Gods, he _hated_ parents. Could this get any more mortifying?

"Dad!" Rachel exclaimed, her cheeks turning a spectacular shade of red and Nico knew his face was probably the same shade, if not deeper in color. "That isn't any of your business! I'm almost twenty-four years old, and you can't do this overprotective bullshit anymore!"

"I think, as long as I'm paying your bills, I have some say over who you let stay over in this apartment," the older man replied, his gaze still focused on Nico. "So, Mr. di Angelo. What's the answer?"

Rachel whirled around, her eyes flashing. Nico felt heat flow through him; Rachel was _hot_ when she was angry and that anger wasn't directed at him. "Don't answer him."

"Um," Nico said, glancing between the two Dares and feeling rather like a slab of meat being prepared to be thrown to the lions. "Okay."

Mr. Dare's eyes narrowed with dislike, and Nico knew that is the kissing his daughter thing hadn't already gotten him there, that response had forever put him on the man's shit list. But he supposed it'd be better to be on Mr. Dare's bad side than Rachel's, considering he didn't have to live with Mr. Dare for the next couple of months.

"Rachel," he said slowly, turning his gaze on her and Nico wasn't sure how she didn't wither under that stare. "May I speak to you in the hall? In private?"

"I guess," Rachel said with a tight shrug. She took a step toward her father, but then she paused and turned back around, as if thinking better of it.

Before he could even protest, Rachel grabbed him by the collar of his T-shirt and tugged him downward into a fierce kiss. Nico's knees buckled just a little bit, and he had to put a hand on the counter to steady himself. Gods, _where_ had she learned to kiss like that?

Rachel's father cleared his throat once again, and she released him after a long moment. He rasped her name as she smirked at him and she let go, turning on her heel.

"Coming, Daddy."

Nico tried not to stare as she walked away and out of the kitchen, swinging her hips wickedly, but damn it was hard. He caught Mr. Dare's frosty glower, and winced.

"Sorry," he said, leaning against the counter. "You know how she is."

"Unfortunately, yes," Mr. Dare said, rolling his eyes. "Don't go anywhere, Mr. di Angelo. I'll be back to talk to you soon."

Nico gulped and nodded.

**-o-**

Rachel was usually a pretty nonviolent person, but right now she felt rather punching something. Hard.

Her father had a terrible effect on her blood pressure, which is why she avoided talking to him as much as possible, especially about topics they didn't see eye-to-eye. Topics like _boys_, and Rachel's relationship with them.

Her father was almost insanely overprotective of her when it came to men, and disapproved of any male she hung out with he hadn't already scouted and pre-approved himself. He held the opinion that any man who wanted to spend time with her was just looking for a free meal ticket and couldn't be, you know, interested in her for reasons beyond her trust fund. It was mildly insulting and demeaning, to say the least.

"If you were trying to prove a point, you went about it the wrong way," her father said in a low voice, putting his hands on his hips and frowning at her. "What was that lewd display, Rachel?"

"_Lewd_? Are we living in the 1920s all of a sudden? It was just a kiss, Daddy!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall. "People happen to do that when they like each other."

"He had his hand under your shirt when I walked in. That was not_ just_ a kiss, dear."

"Why does it matter? It wasn't like I was letting him feel me up in public or something," Rachel said, feeling herself blush at the thought. "Maybe if you had _called first_, you wouldn't have walked in on us and you could've met Nico properly."

Mr. Dare stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean, _properly_? Rachel, that boy_ isn't_ your – he _is_ just some random barfly you picked up last night, isn't he?"

It was moments like these where Rachel wished she could tell her father about her role as the Oracle of Delphi. It would just make things so much easier to say, "Hey, Nico's my bodyguard and he has to stay here so I don't die horribly!" than coming up with lies all the time. There'd been times where she had gotten close to revealing the secret about the gods to her father, but she had never been able to convince Apollo that it'd be in her best interests for her family to know. Mr. Dare knew she was involved in something strange, what with all the collapsing she did, the way she could predictive moves on the stock market weeks before his consultants could, and the summers at Camp Half-Blood, but as long as she kept her head down and stayed out the press, he was content to ignore her so-called personality quirks.

"Nico is a friend," she sighed, reaching up to rub her temple. "I've known him for years, and he needed a place to stay for a couple of months so I decided to let him live in the spare bedroom. The kissing…thing was a recent development, actually."

"How recent?"

"Like less than 24 hours, recent. Don't worry," she said, catching his slightly horrified look. "It's just been kissing, I swear. The Dare family honor is still intact."

Her father was good at ignoring most of her issues, but it was impossible for him to miss the bitterness in her voice. His face softened just a bit and he reached out to touch her on the shoulder.

"Rachel, you know that's not what I'm worried about. I just don't want you to get hurt. Men can be vicious, especially when they just want money," he replied, and Rachel might've been touched by his concern, had he not given her this, 'All men are gold diggers except for the ones I pick out for you,' speech a hundred times before. "Do you trust this di Angelo boy not to screw you over?"

"I trust Nico with my life," she said without hesitation. "He wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

This declaration did not seem to impress her father at all, and he stared at her for a long time, as if he could get her to rescind her words with just a look. Finally, he sighed loudly and removed his hand from her shoulder.

"Fine. I just hope that your certainty in the boy doesn't come back to haunt you, dear," he said, taking a step back from her. "The boy can stay, I suppose. He has been paying you rent, yes?"

"Well, I'm _so_ glad I've got your approval," she said sarcastically. "Because it's not like I'm a grown woman who can make her own decisions now or anything."

"I never said he had my approval," her father replied, glancing toward the kitchen speculatively and then back at her. "Are you sure he's your type? He looks a little too rough around the edges for you, and I swear he looks familiar…"

"He's Percy's cousin."

"Oh, _is_ he?"

If Rachel had ever hoped to get her father's approval of Nico (which she hadn't, considering they _weren't _dating and she didn't care what her father thought about her friends or potential significant others), she had just blown it by mentioning that Nico and Percy were related. Her father had hated Percy the minute they had met eight years ago, and that hatred had only increased after Percy accidentally destroyed the $2 million dollar, gold-plated fountain in her family's mansion foyer during her seventeenth birthday party. Anything that was connected to Percy in any way, shape, or form was automatically dismissed as irrelevant or unworthy of his notice…except if it was something like this, it seemed.

"Well, then," Mr. Dare said, straightening his suit jacket in the way Rachel knew meant things were not going to get any better for her or Nico soon. "I guess this means I have even more of a reason to talk to the boy, don't I?"

"Daddy – " Rachel protested, but her father had already turned and was marching back into the kitchen where Nico was waiting.

Rachel put her face into her hands and let out a tiny, strangled scream of frustration. This wasn't fair! She and Nico had _just_ broken through their boundaries, and now she'd be lucky if Nico would even want to _look_ at her again after her father got through with him.

**-o-**

Well, Rachel had been wrong about one thing: Nico did look at her after her father left, but it took him almost five full minutes to muster up the courage to talk to her and when he did, he simply said, "I am never touching you again," before ducking back in his bedroom to hide from her until she needed to be dropped off on campus for class later in the afternoon.

And even then, he had still been awkward around her. He had insisted on using the subway instead of taking the demon bike, probably because the motorcycle would've put them in too close of proximity for his comfort. When they had been on the subway, he'd sat across from her and hadn't looked at her once. By the time they reached her station without speaking once, she'd had enough of this avoidance crap. Her dad was _not_ that bad, dammit.

"Hey," she said, tugging on his arm as soon as they were free from the crowds. He didn't turn or stop walking, but she knew she had his attention. "Don't take anything my dad said seriously, all right? The only reason he gives two shits about me is when it concerns his bank account. He doesn't know anything about me…or anything about you, for that matter. I don't care what he thinks about us."

Nico sighed, and glanced back at her _finally_. His expression was inquisitive, which was a vast improvement over the grim, shell-shocked mask he'd been wearing for the last couple of hours.

"So there's an 'us' now?" he asked curiously.

Rachel flushed. Although she hadn't quite meant for it to sound like that, at least it was getting him talking.

"There's always been a general 'us,' in regards to the whole bodyguard thing. We're obviously in that together," she explained, following him up the stairs to the street level. She took a deep breath and continued, "But we haven't really talked about whether or not we want it to become a different sort of 'us.'"

Nico paused and she bumped into his back, causing her to wobble a little precariously on the stairs. He wrapped a hand around her elbow to steady her, and stepped down beside her. A subway station was probably the worst place to have this conversation, what with all the people milling about and bumping into them, but it was what needed to be said, especially after the events this morning. They needed to honest with each other, in terms of what they were expecting from here on out.

"Hasn't this already been decided for us? Your one rule is that you can't – "

"Have sex, not that I can't have a boyfriend," Rachel interrupted, her heart pounding loudly against her chest. "The rule is that I have to remain a virgin, nothing more, nothing less. I've never really considered any other options because…well, because there's never really been a reason before now. I'd be willing to try, if you would."

Every little bit of that was true. She hadn't felt this strongly for another person for a long time – not since the early days of her crush on Percy – and it wasn't just physical attraction either. Under all her exasperation and frustration, she had found she genuinely liked Nico, and she wanted to see if what they had between them could be more than just quick, stolen kisses in her kitchen. If there was anyone she was going to test the limits with, she wanted it to be Nico di Angelo.

"You're sure?" he asked, tracing the skin on her arm with the tips of his fingers. "Because this is bigger than me just telling your dad to fuck off, which I would never do, by the way, because he is _creepy_ – "

"My dad is nowhere near as creepy as yours," she quipped, and the look he gave her implied that he certainly didn't think that was true. "And I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't know what I was getting into. I just want to us to try. Is that too hard?"

Nico sighed, and let go of her arm. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and motioned for her to start moving up the stairs again.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I just need some time to think about it," he replied, falling into step beside her. "

"Did my dad freak you out that badly?" she asked, puzzled. She was sure if she would've asked Nico the same question just a few hours earlier, he would've said yes in a heartbeat. Had her father's lecture made him realize that maybe she wasn't what he wanted after all?

"Not really. It's just…everything that's gone on between us has happened pretty fast, and I think we should slow down a bit. We – well, I haven't had any time to digest it yet, anyway."

"You mean brood about it."

Nico frowned at her as they reached the street level. "I don't _brood_."

"Liar. You're the king of brooding," she said, knocking shoulders with him playfully. "It's all part of your creepy, 'I talk to dead people,' package.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes as they exited the subway and started walking along 8th Street. "But all I'm saying is that we shouldn't just jump into something right away. I've still got to be your bodyguard, first and foremost, so maybe we should just take it slow. See how things develop from here."

Rachel nodded, realizing that he had a valid point. They were both fairly impulsive people, and that impulsiveness usually generated some pretty disastrous results. The last 24 hours had been a roller coaster of emotion for the both of them, and right now, they could be on an extreme upswing. For all she knew, they could be back to barely tolerating one another by tomorrow night.

They stopped at the intersection, waiting for the light to change, and Rachel let out an restless huff of air.

"I understand. That's actually a pretty good idea," she said. "I suppose I just got a little worried, with my dad and all. He likes to scare all my friends away from me, and most of the time he succeeds."

Nico reached for her, threading his hands into her hair as he pressed his lips to the top of her forehead.

"I'm not scared off that easily," he said, and she could feel his lips curving into a smile against her skin. "How else do you think I was able stand being around you this long?"

"Oh, _very _funny," Rachel replied, pushing him away from her. "Come on, bodyguard, let's see if you can walk me all the way to campus without running into something _really_ scary."

The light changed as she spoke, and as they walked, Nico looped an arm with hers and Rachel couldn't quite help the ridiculous grin that crossed her face at this.

* * *

I should probably stop doing these '**next time on...**' things since I always change my mind about what happens in the next chapter, but I can for sure say that the B Plot will make a reappearance, Nico, Percy and Rachel have a movie night, and we get to hear Hades's message.

Thanks for reading, and please review.


	10. Warnings

**Author's notes:** Heeeeey, remember me? I really didn't mean to take this long with an update, but I realized there were some issues with the plot that needed to be banged out before I continued writing this fic. I've got it mostly sorted now, so I don't think there should be too many more long waits between updates like this but you never do know with me. Sorry for making you wait such a long time, and thank you all for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Percy Jackson.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Warnings**

Surprisingly, Rachel Dare's idea of a fun night out with the boy she might have some vaguely romantic feelings toward did _not_ include getting dragged down into the New York City sewers by a monster that looks like cross between an angry caterpillar and an unhappy squid.

Said fun night would also _not _include losing her favorite pair of gladiator sandals down the catersquid's gullet to avoid being eaten herself and then having to sort through the monster's innards to find them again after it had been sliced open either.

But when you were the Oracle of Delphi with a target on your head and the boy you happened to have some vaguely romantic feelings toward was the demigod son of Hades and acted as your bodyguard, you just had to deal with it, sewers, catersquids, ruined shoes and all.

"Ugh, there's no way I'm going to be able to save these," Rachel sighed, squinting gloomily at her shoes before tossing them back at the monster's smoking and oozing corpse. "I hope they were worth the effort, you stupid thing."

"Hmmm," Nico said, bending down beside her. He lifted his sword, the glowing silver of the Stygian iron casting just enough light so he could examine the corpse. "I'm pretty sure this one was after me this time."

"Oh yeah? What makes you say think that?" Rachel replied, reaching back to squeeze the slime out of her ponytail. She grimaced, trying not to think about what that slime was made up of exactly, and then wiped her hands on her jeans. "Because it looked pretty interested in eating me, if I do say so myself."

"It's a carrion crawler. I ran into them a few times in Europe, and New Orleans had a really nasty infestation of them a couple of years after Hurricane Katrina. They prefer the flesh of the dead, but they won't protest a living meal," he explained. "They probably just got you confused for me. I'm smell like a five star meal to these guys, being the son of Hades and all."

Rachel frowned, and glanced at him.

"Do you really?"

"Do I really what?"

"Smell like death. Because I thought all those kids at camp were just being assholes by saying those things, but if it's true, I'm going to have to apologize to a couple of people – "

Nico looked at her, exasperated, and then wiped his sword off on the carrion crawler's hide.

"I didn't mean _literally_, because I'm sure someone – like you, probably – would've told me that by now," he replied. "Monsters are attracted to smell of the immortal blood in our veins, and I can only assume mine smells like maggot infested corpses with the reactions I get from immortals and monsters alike."

"Huh," Rachel said, standing up. "Do you think I've got some sort of scent to me now that I'm the Oracle?"

That would certainly explain how these monsters had the unnerving habit of knowing where and who she was when they did decide to attack.

Nico stood as well and sheathed his blade, causing them to lose what little light they had down in the sewer. It took Rachel's eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness so she could see the demigod's outline next to her.

"If you do, it's probably not very strong. I wouldn't worry about it," he said with a shrug. "Besides, with the amount of slime you rolled in, you'll be reeking of sewer for weeks to come. No one, let alone a monster, is gonna wanna come near you."

Rachel huffed, glaring at his shadowy face. Even if she couldn't see it, she knew he had to have that damned obnoxious smirk on his lips.

"Wow, you just know the _exact_ thing to say to get a girl eating out of the palm of your hands, di Angelo. I'm so impressed that I think that comment just bumped us back to 'occasionally holding hands status' of your slow moving relationship chart – "

Rachel squeaked as Nico's hands settled on her hips and pulled her against him, their clothes making disgusting squelching noises as they pressed together. Apparently _he_ didn't have a problem getting near her when she was covered in slime.

She didn't have much time to dwell on that as Nico's lips were descending on hers for their first kiss in a week. All of Rachel's higher brain function shorted out, and she forgot all about being slime covered in a dark sewer and concentrated on the feeling between the two of them. Nico tasted like sweat and a little bit like dirt, but he was warm and wonderful and real, and that was all that counted.

"What – what was that for?" she replied breathlessly when they pulled apart long moments later. "I thought we were going slow."

When Nico said slow, he had meant _slow_. Like nearly glacier slow. Rachel had been fine with it for two or three days after their first kiss – she'd gotten the time she needed to sort out her feelings and decide that, yes, she wanted to see where this thing with Nico was going and if it could possibly turn into something more serious. But it had quickly gone from being fine to bordering on painfully ridiculous as Nico insisted on maintaining some distance between them; just yesterday she'd had to remind him that they had done worse things than holding hands out in public so he needed to chill out and just give her his hand already.

If their unresolved sexual tension had been bad before, this period of waiting had turned it into pure agony because now Rachel knew how good of a kisser Nico was, how the hard line of his chest felt pressed against, that she could make him tremble if she raked her nails lightly up his back. Although knowing these details made the fantasies all the better, she'd prefer to have the real thing in her arms than some imagined scenario torn straight out of a romance novel.

Nico's answer was another kiss, teasingly slow and soft, as if to show her there _were_ benefits to going slow, and Rachel probably would've pinched him for being such an ass if she wasn't enjoying it as much as she was.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything," Rachel amended quickly, before their lips met again. Her head was beginning to spin from pleasure. "But you could've picked a better place than a sewer to kiss me, couldn't you?"

This caused Nico to pause momentarily so he consider this.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "The monster corpse really doesn't do anything for the mood, does it?"

They glanced at each other, and Rachel let out a giggle, which was quickly joined by Nico's rough bark of a laugh. Their short burst of laughter quickly turned into loud guffaws that rang throughout the sewer tunnel, and as much as she loved making out with Nico, it was in moments like these she found herself truly wanting more of.

Rachel had to admit that, even if the first part of the night hadn't gone as planned, the second half was shaping up to be a much better.

She probably wouldn't have thought that, though, had she noticed the pair of glowing red eyes watching them closely from the far end of the tunnel.

**-o-**

In retrospect, Rachel shouldn't have been at all surprised to see a photo of her and Nico walking along 5th Street in the gossip section of the _New York Post _the next morning.

Being a New York heiress, this wasn't the first time she'd been featured in the gossip pages, although usually it was for whatever stupid company events her father made her attend instead of her personal life. But this photo would be something extra special for the New York City gossip crew, considering she both looked like she crawled out of the sewer system and was pictured with someone with Y chromosome. The information under the picture was already speculating if Nico was her boyfriend or not, and Rachel was thankful that they hadn't been holding hands (or gods forbid, _kissing_) when that picture had been taken otherwise the overall public embarrassment might just kill her.

Speaking of the son of Hades...

"Is there a reason the phone in the kitchen is off the hook?" Nico asked as he leaned over the top of her armchair. She gave him a moment to notice what she was reading. "Holy shit, is that our picture in the _Post_?"

"Yup. Welcome to the glamorous world of being an incredibly minor celebrity," she replied, turning the page. "If the tabloids are interested enough in us, you might actually get to pretend to be a real bodyguard and protect me from hordes of paparazzi for a couple of days."

"Fantastic," Nico said sarcastically. "Is this printed any where else?"

"It's probably all over the Internet by now. If there isn't a thread rating your hotness levels on ONTD by the end of the day, I will be greatly disappointed," Rachel said. "And to answer your previous question, the phone is off the hook so I don't have to answer the angry calls from my father."

"Oh, right," Nico said, blanching at the mention of her father.

"Yup," she said again, turning a page in the paper. "He is _not_ going to be pleased."

That was the understatement of the century, but she knew how to deal with her father's nuclear meltdowns. Nico, on the other hand, was still recovering from her father's visit the week before and could still be reduced to a nervous wreck if her father's name was invoked in the wrong context.

She waited for him to say something about how her father was going to sic the mafia on him to break his kneecaps and that he was going to have to go hide on her roof for the rest of the month, but instead he simply said, "So what's this Web site where people are going to rate my level of hotness? I wanna check it out."

Rachel folded up the newspaper and swatted him in the arm with it. He laughed, batting it out of the way, and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. Rachel felt warmth spread straight down to her toes; she had been worried they'd be back to their slow, affection-less phase after the sewer incident last night.

"What? Afraid you're going to have share me with my Internet fangirls now?"

"Oh, please. Go be smug about your classically good looks someplace else," she sighed, reaching for the textbook at her feet. "I've got to read two chapters of art history before class today, and I can't focus with you hovering in the background."

"Because I'm so attractive your can't tear your attention away?"

She rolled her eyes.

"No, because you're a mouth breather and it's distracting," she replied, cracking open the textbook. "Now shoo. Go intimidate some pigeons on the terrace or something."

"Speaking of reading," Nico said, pretending like he hadn't heard her. "I'm going to go to library today. You want anything?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him critically. Nico wasn't exactly known for being a reader. She'd seen him with fantasy novels tucked under his arm at Camp Half-Blood occasionally, but he really didn't strike her as someone who enjoyed trips to the library.

"What do you need there that you can't find on the Internet?"

He shrugged. "Research. I've been thinking about looking up those monsters the Oracle painted last week, just to see if we can get any clues about what they are."

"That's a good idea."

"Why do you always sound _so_ surprised when I manage to come up with one?"

"Because it happens ever so rarely," Rachel sighed, reaching up to pat his hand comfortingly. "Don't worry, Nico. Even a broken clock is right twice a day."

Nico glared at her, and then stalked off to his room, muttering something about how it was just his luck that he'd end up dating the most obnoxious Oracle ever under his breath as he went.

**-o-**

In the basement of the New York Public Library, right beside the Children's Room, there is a seldom-used door, a burnished brass number seven fixed in the center. The door, and the room it leads to, isn't in any of the library blueprints and was never planned by any of the architects. It simply appeared overnight in the early 1900s and has stayed there ever since.

Mortals usually walk right past the door, on their way to better, more interesting parts of the library, and not even the head librarian knows of its existence, which, all things considered, is probably for the best. For this door is the entrance to Athena's Library, the largest repository of knowledge in history knowledge even the gods have forgotten over time, and if this place didn't have the answers to Nico's questions about monsters and Oracles, then no other place will.

Nico had been to Athena's Library only once before, when he had been searching for clues about his mother years ago. Hades and Alecto had destroyed almost all evidence of Maria di Angelo's existence in the mortal world, including all of Nico and Bianca's original identification documents as well, and Nico had thought Athena's Library might hold all of the answers for him.

It hadn't given him much to go off of, vague pieces of prophecy and other gobbledygook that had only made sense after Bianca showed him what happened to their mother, and he really hadn't planned on going back anytime soon, but he still hadn't found any clues to the monster that had attacked him in Central Park and the lack of information was burning him up. For all he knew, this could be a clue to the identity of Rachel's wanna-be assassins and it was something he wanted to look into right away.

He certainly had enough time to visit the library while Rachel was in class, and it'd be a better use of his time than sitting around and scaring off pigeons while he waited for a non-existent monster attack. Whoever was trying to kill Rachel wasn't going to do it during the daytime, the last few monsters had proven that much.

The Head Olympian Librarian and Researcher was some poor kid of Athena's who had been granted immortality and subsequently banished to the library for the rest of eternity to sort inventory and yell at the immortals who forgot to return _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ on time. If she had a first name, she certainly didn't want to tell anyone what it was (Connor Stoll had spent a week alphabetizing shelves after he had called her "Libby" during one memorable trip to the library) and preferred to just go by her title, The Librarian. She didn't seem to mind it, but being cooped up in this dusty old place had to suck big time. If Nico was ever granted immortality, he hoped he would be named the patron god of something more exciting than _libraries_.

Unlike her contemporary siblings, who all sported some combination of blonde hair and gray eyes, The Librarian had curly black hair and light brown skin, plus her mother's signature cutting glare, which she was now employing as she stared at Nico over the top of her cat eye glasses.

"Do you have your library card?" The Librarian asked in a bored tone.

Cards to Athena's Library were standard issue at Camp Half-Blood as there were usually a couple of trips there every summer, although the Athena cabin was always pressing for more so they could complete a project or two. Nico's card was usually tucked inside his wallet, behind his fake ID and crumpled up subway passes, but it seemed to have gone missing recently. He wasn't sure how, considering he barely ever used the thing.

"I thought I did," Nico replied, flipping through his wallet again and sighing when the search came up negative. "Do you really need the card? I've been here before."

"No card, no entrance. Those are the rules."

He frowned. He could just hear Rachel's voice in his head if he came back empty handed, mocking him for being such a _great_ monster scholar by forgetting his library card.

"Oh, _come on_. You know I'm not some mortal who wandered in here by mistake. Don't you have me on file or something? Can't you look it up?"

The Librarian pointed to the gigantic mahogany filing cabin behind the desk. It had to be at least twenty feet tall and twice as wide, and looked like it contained the library records from as far back as the age of Heracles.

"Lord Zeus has yet to grant us the fund necessary to make upgrades for our filing system yet, and I am not going to waste my valuable time looking for your file," The Librarian replied irritably. "Come back again when you have your card, demigod."

"But this is important!" Nico said, leaning against the desk. The Librarian's eyes narrowed as his fingertips smudged the pristine surface of the desk. "I can't let it wait. It could be a matter of life and death."

The Librarian was far too refined to roll her eyes, but Nico knew she must have been sorely tempted to.

"I make no exceptions, even if that is the case. You won't step one foot in these stacks without your card," she said sternly. "If you need the information that desperately, you could always fill out a research request. It would probably get you more accurate information than your own search would as well."

"A research request?"

The Librarian nodded and snapped her fingers. A small stack of papers and a pen appeared on the desk, and she pushed it toward him. Nico wondered why she couldn't just do that to find his card.

"Fill out these forms in the _lobby_ as best you can and attach any and all relevant facts that will aid us in locating the information you need," she explained. "Then return them to me, and my interns will begin gathering the information for you. You will receive a message when all relevant files have been gathered, sometime between the next four days and 75 years."

"Seventy-five _years_?"

"We've only had one request that was research that long, and it was for Albert Einstein. It was such a beautiful request, Athena herself helped do some of research. It was such a pity he died before we could give it to him," The Librarian clarified, her face softening as she reminisced over research of yesteryear. It was Nico's turn to resist rolling his eyes - _academics_. "A standard request such as yours will take no more than a week, maybe two if the records are out of file."

Nico huffed impatiently, staring at the stack of papers and then back at The Librarian. He hadn't exactly been lying when he had said it was a matter of life and death, although he made the situation seem a little more dire in hopes that she would be intrigued and help him out. Whatever information that could be gathered could wait a week...

"Oh, _fine_," Nico groused, taking the papers from her. It was either this way, or no information from Athena's Library at all. He could always just make due with whatever sources he found at the mortal library until then.

**-o-**

"How's the researching going?"

"Don't even get me started," Nico replied, closing his book with snap and tossing it on the coffee table. The seven other books he had borrowed from the New York Public Library stared at him mockingly from where he had piled them on the surface. "No offense, but mortals have no fucking clue what they're talking about when it comes to monsters."

At least, none of the mortal _authors_ he had selected had any idea what they were talking about. Almost all of them contradicted themselves on the subject of Greek monsters, even some as simple as Pegasus. Although considering how many different variations they were of Greek myths, he shouldn't have been all that surprised. He had tried the Internet, but it was hard to Google something when all you had to go on was a description of a mythology creature no one in the Internet age had probably ever seen in person.

There was a reason Nico had decided not to go to college, and it was called research. He didn't have any patience for this sort of stuff, and reading tended to give him massive headaches anyway.

Coffee cup in hand, Rachel reached over to grab one of the books and then sat herself on the arm of his chair, crossing her legs over one another. Nico silently admired the slender line of her right leg as it bounced softly over her knee, idly wishing she was wearing a skirt instead of her patched up jeans so he could run his hands along smooth skin.

"'The Ultimate Guide to the Monsters of Greek Mythology,'" she intoned solemnly, before turning the book over to read off the back. "'Do you know the difference between your Medusas and Medeas? Find out in this handy guide, which will prepare you to meet with any foul beast from Greek mythology!' Well, that's bullshit. Medea wasn't a monster...at least not in the _literal_ sense, anyway."

"I know," he replied. "The author also has my dad listed in there too, which really isn't fair. Out of all the gods, he's done the least nasty things to humans."

"You Hades kids just have it so bad, huh?"

Rachel flipped through the book carelessly, pausing briefly to examine some of the pictures, before setting it back down on the coffee table and turning to him.

"I almost think you'd have better luck finding your buddy from Central Park in my Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. "I think I still have it in my closet, actually."

Nico stared at her, wondering if he had possibly misheard her or if the words Dungeons and Dragons really had just come out of her mouth.

"You play D&D?"

"I used to, before I found out monsters and heroes exist in real life. I wasn't very good," she added, shrugging. She caught the look on his face, and frowned, concerned. "Is there something wrong what that?"

Nico reached out and took the coffee cup out of her hands, setting it on the end table on the other side of the chair. Then he grabbed her by the legs and tugged her into his lap. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady herself, her green eyes glinting with barely suppressed excitement as his arm went around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

"There is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with that," he replied, threading a hand through her ponytail and pulling her in for a kiss.

He'd been dying to do this all day, get Rachel in his arms and keep her there as long as he could. Even though it had been his idea, it had killed him to back off and put some distance between them earlier in the weekend. But it had been a necessary step, to make sure they were both certain about their feelings and were willing to take this new step together. He didn't want to force Rachel into anything she didn't want, that she was one hundred percent sure about because she could stand to lose everything if things between them got too carried away.

And no matter how much he wanted it, Nico was _not_ going to let things carried away between them. Rachel's well-being was his responsibility, and he'd be the worst excuse of a bodyguard or friend ever if he was the one who ended up hurting her in the end.

Although it was rather hard to remember what was so wrong about getting carried away when Rachel was whimpering into his mouth and everything about her just felt so fucking _good_ –

"If I had known my old nerdy habits would've gotten this reaction out of you," Rachel panted, moving her lips along the line of his jaw. "I would've mentioned it a _lot_ sooner. It might've saved us some trouble and time."

"Can't help it," Nico replied, his voice dropping as her mouth found the sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and sucked hard. For a virgin, she certainly knew what to do right. Maybe it had something to do with that stack of Harlequin novels he had discovered in the hall closet when he had first moved in. "Nerdy girls are hot."

She laughed breathlessly, moving back for another kiss. "Did I tell you I used to play Pokemon too?"

He pulled away from her, admiring the heated flush on her cheeks, her green eyes glazed with pleasure and full wet red lips. He'd always thought Rachel was pretty, but she was never more beautiful to him than when she looked like this.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you so much," he said, running his thumb over her lips softly before kissing her again.

This kiss was different than all the others. It was full of heat and promises of more pleasure to come, and if that was any indication, things might have gotten more hot and heavy between the two of them, had the doorbell not decided to ring at that exact moment.

"Fuck," Nico groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the cushion of the chair. "Were we expecting anyone or is that your dad finally come to kill me for that picture?"

"It's Friday, movie night," Rachel clarified, disentangling herself from his arms. "That'll be Percy."

Nico let out another groan. He'd had to suffer through the first of Rachel and Percy's weekly movie nights last week – they'd watched Disney's _Hercules_, which Rachel and Percy normally found downright hilarious, but it reached new levels of hilarity upon their discovery that Nico had never seen it before – and he wasn't eager to do it again. He always felt like such an outsider when Rachel and Percy hung out; they had a whole history together that Nico had never been a part of and there was no easy way he could transition himself into that relationship.

"Can't you make him go away?" he asked, reaching for her as she slid off of him and out of his grasp.

"And tell him what? That sorry, we're canceling movie night so you and I can make out?" she said. "Yeah, that'll go over real well with him, I'm sure."

"Like he won't be able to tell what we were doing the minute he gets a look at you," Nico replied, gesturing to her mussed hair and kiss swollen lips.

"I wouldn't talk, Dead Boy. You're a little excited yourself," she snapped, her gaze flickering briefly to his lap and then back to his face. Both of them flushed as their eyes met, and she was the first to look away. "Why don't you go cool down and get some beer out of the fridge while I let Percy in? He said he would be bringing pizza."

Well, the pizza and beer _would_ make movie night slightly more bearable at any rate. It was hard to be annoyed on full stomach.

Nico got to his feet and headed toward the kitchen as the doorbell rang a second time, causing Rachel to scurry down the hall, calling out, "I'm coming!" as she ran.

He flipped the light on in the kitchen, and nearly had a heart attack as the flood of light revealed a dark suited man examining the china cabinet across the room. Before Nico could make a noise of warning or go for a weapon, the man turned around, and Nico recognized that bland face instantly. He'd only spent a year of his life looking for this person only to find them lurking right under his nose, after all.

"Zeus's _balls_, Alecto!" he shouted, advancing toward the Fury. "You couldn't have given me a _warning_ that you were dropping by or something? I could have vaporized you!"

Alecto cackled, not bothering to disguise her high-pitched, nails-on-a -chalkboard voice to fit with her image as a prim lawyer.

"I highly doubt that, not with the way you were carrying on in there," she said, indicating her head toward the living room. Nico flushed for the second time in a matter of minutes. "Some bodyguard you are, not even sensing the monster in the kitchen..."

"There aren't supposed to be any monsters in the kitchen!" he growled, getting into Alecto's face. Normally, he didn't mind his father's servants, but finding a Fury of all creatures, lurking in the one safe spot Rachel was supposed to have set of all sorts of emotions off inside him, the most prominent of which being anger. "I have this place warded to Tartarus and back. How the hell did you get in here without my permission?"

The Fury grinned at him maliciously. "Your wards are good, but even the best have the tiniest of holes. So long as your blood, the blood of the Underworld, is present within the wards, we creatures of the Underworld shall have permission to enter... whether you like it or not."

"Oh that's just fucking _great_," Nico said, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. "Good thing I'm not worried about my _dad _trying to kill anyone in this apartment or anything." He noticed Alecto shifted slightly, and that was enough to set off alarm bells. "Or _is_ he? Alecto...what are you doing here?"

The Fury straightened herself to her full height, which still made her a few inches shorter than Nico. He found it hard to be intimidated by her when she wasn't in her natural form.

"Your great father sent me to observe you, to see if certain allegations leveled against your character held any weight and if they did – "

Nico's mouth went dry, any lingering happiness leaving his body in a second. "What allegations?"

" – and if they _did_," Alecto repeated, giving him a pointed look. "I was to deliver this message to you."

She reached into her suit jacket, and pulled out a simple white envelope. Nico could see his name written in Greek in his father's curling script on the front, and knew whatever message was contained in that letter could not bode well for him.

"Might I suggest," The Fury continued dryly, handing the letter over to him and smirking at the sight of his trembling hands, "not making out with Apollo's Oracle in public from now on?"

Nico's heart sank down to his toes and he didn't have any energy to glare at her as he split the seal open and slid the letter out. It was written in the same script as the front of the letter, and was no more than a few sentences long – his father was a big fan of not dragging things out.

_Nico_, the letter began. _Apollo knows. If you persist, make no mistake, he will kill you and I will retaliate in kind. Olympus will war, and your actions will have put the Oracle in more far danger than any of our enemies could have possibly dreamed. Do not tempt fate, boy, because it will not be kind to you in return. Stay away from the Oracle or lose her forever. _

By the time he reached the last line and glanced up, Alecto had slipped away just as quietly and quickly as she had originally appeared. Apparently his father had not needed any comment from him regarding the contents of the letter, and Alecto hadn't wanted to stick around to see his reaction.

He leaned against the counter, staring at the letter helplessly. His stomach was tight with sick fury and heavy disappointment, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to crumple it into a little ball or tear it into thousands of tiny pieces. Of course the Olympians would finally interfere with him and Rachel once everything had finally come together, he thought bitterly. They couldn't have done it a couple of weeks ago, before they had kissed and gotten attached to each other?

But had he honestly expected anything else from their situation? What he and Rachel had wasn't something that was meant to last, and he had known that from the start. He had been deluding himself to think that they might get away with breaking the rules of the immortals.

"Hey, did you get the beer or I am out?" Rachel called from the living room, her voice snapping him back to awareness. He had just enough time to shove his father's letter out of sight into the back pocket of his jeans before Rachel entered the kitchen. She gave him a frustrated look as she noticed he had not, in fact, gotten any beer out of the fridge. "I swear, I ask you demigods to save the world, you do it no sweat, but one measly task like getting drinks and... what's wrong?"

Nico had moved toward her, pausing in front of her and reaching out to cup her face in his hands. His stomach swooped uncomfortably as he realized this would be the last time he'd get to be this intimate with her, that he'd have to tell her...

"What?" she repeated softly, her gaze growing concerned.

He had to tell her about her father's message, that Apollo knew about them and they couldn't possibly do this any more and that he's sorry for causing all this trouble, but his voice remained stuck in his throat. He had never been very good with words in the first place, so he stuck with what he was good with: actions.

He bent his head and brushed his lips against hers, trying to convey everything he wanted to say and more into a kiss. Rachel sensed the hesitance in him, and pulled him in deeper, and yes, _this_ was everything he wanted to remember about being with Rachel Elizabeth Dare, this certainty in knowing someone out there knew what he craved and needed, and wasn't afraid to give it to him.

"So I got this really weird call from your dad today, Rachel – whoa!"

Nico and Rachel broke apart to find themselves once again find someone interrupting their moment loitering in the kitchen doorway. Except this time it wasn't an angry Mr. Dare, but one rather shocked looking Percy Jackson.

"Okay," he said slowly, taking the scene in with wide eyes. "Forget movies. Someone needs to explain this to me. _Now_."

* * *

Next time on **_Death's Dare_**, Kioko learns to update at a reasonable rate while Percy gets to yell at Nico, Rachel finds out about the letter, and things start to get serious on the assassination front.


	11. Worth

**Author's notes: **I think the real title of this chapter should be "melodrama" but that's just my dissatisfaction with it showing. Shortest chapter in a long time, but the important stuff happens in the next couple of chapters, so hopefully I'll have an update soon to make up for it.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

**Chapter 11: Worth**

"So, this kissing thing. A fairly recent development between you two, I guess?"

One thing Percy had apparently never learned while at Camp Half-Blood was how to hide his emotions from people. It was a widely known fact among fellow demigods that he proudly wore his heart on his sleeve and was sometimes easier to read than a picture book, especially when he was angry.

Nico didn't know why he was bothering to try and hide his emotions now. He knew the other man was mad; he wouldn't have dragged him out on a terrace for a private talk if he wasn't.

"Um, about a week?" Nico replied, leaning against the terrace railing casually. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to ward off the chill that the cool night air brought in.

"A week," Percy repeated slowly, his green eyes narrowing. "You mean after we talked about you not getting involved with Rachel on any sort of personal level because it would be really_ really _bad and stupid, you decided that it was all right to go ahead and do it _anyway_?"

"Actually, _she's_ the one who kissed me," he clarified, and winced as soon as the words came out of his mouth, realizing that it was not going to help his case with Percy any. "I mean, we both sort of – "

"I don't care which one of you started it. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. You knew Rachel was off-limits going into this, and I know we joked about sexual tension and shit, but I didn't think you'd actually..." Percy trailed off, his anger momentarily getting the better of him. "There are hundreds of thousands of women in this city, and you had to go and pick the one girl who isn't available. What was so hard about staying away from her?"

Nico's hands balled into fists, his own temper being stoked by Percy's words.

Of course _Percy_ wouldn't understand what it was like to be faced with this sort of dilemma. It was easy for him to preach about limits and staying away from up on his righteous pedestal. The older man had Annabeth – he'd _always_ had Annabeth, and he'd never been faced with a moment where he had truly been forbidden to be with her. Athena's disapproval was nothing compared to what Nico had faced with his involvement with Rachel.

Percy had always had everything, and Nico had absolutely _nothing_ because the boy in front of him had taken it all away when he had let Bianca –

Nico derailed that train of thought as soon as it started. He wasn't going to go there, not right now. Perhaps a small, vicious part of him that had never completely forgiven Percy for his role in his sister's death, but that had no part in the discussion they were having now and it wouldn't be fair to bring it up.

"You wouldn't understand," Nico sighed. "It wasn't like I didn't try to keep away from her. I just... couldn't."

That was true, to an extent. There had been a certain inevitability about everything that had happened between them. He had been pulled toward Rachel the moment he'd walked into her life, and Nico doubted that they would've been able to avoid it even if they had wanted to.

"Then you weren't trying hard enough," Percy snapped, set in his stubborn mood. "Your job is to protect Rachel, and pulling this sort of shit is just going to hurt her, in more ways than one. Not to mention you're just going to cause problems with the gods if they find out that you've been breaking vows."

Nico betrayed no emotion at this, though his silence seemed to tell Percy more than any sort of denial could've done. Percy's green eyes went wide for the second time tonight, and he stepped closer to Nico, hissing, "Nico, tell me they _didn't _– "

"Look, do you really think I wanted it to be like this?" he asked, drawing himself up to his full height. He was past the days of letting Percy intimidate him. "I never really thought anything would come of it, that Rachel would actually feel the same way. If I had known how much trouble it'd get me in, I'd have never kissed her in the first place. I was looking for some difficult relationship, and it certainly wasn't worth it to – to – "

It wasn't worth it to get attached to her, develop somewhat significant feelings, and then have to back away for good so soon, not when he was already hurting and he knew Rachel would be too. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Rachel.

That's what Nico wanted to tell him, but he found himself trailing off in frustration. Percy would never believe him if he told him the true extent of his feelings for Rachel; the other boy already had it in his head that he'd only gone after her as some interesting challenge. If he already thought so little of him, nothing Nico said otherwise was going to change it.

And Nico never got a chance to say otherwise, for in the next moment another voice spoke up, one he didn't particularly want to hear at this moment.

"Wasn't worth it to _what_, Nico?" Rachel asked from behind, her voice frigid.

At any other time, it would have been comical how fast his and Percy's heads whipped around to stare at Rachel as she stepped out onto the terrace, not bothering to shut the behind her. But there was little humor to be found in this moment, and certainly not when Rachel was looking at the two of them with betrayal in her eyes.

"Sorry, Rachel, we're just – " Percy began, stepping forward but Rachel cut him off with a glare and he stepped back immediately.

"I know what you were doing, Percy, and I don't like it one bit. I can't believe I'm saying this to you of all people, but you have absolutely _no_ right to talk about or make judgments about my life or my relationships without my consent," she said cuttingly, pulling herself up to her full height. "Just because we kissed once doesn't mean you get to act like an overbearing ex-boyfriend when you've found out I've moved on. I understand that you're concerned about me, but this is absolutely none of your business so kindly _butt out_."

Percy looked properly cowed by this, but Nico had no time to be pleased by the hero being taken down a peg for Rachel's eyes had slid over to him and she didn't look happy. She didn't even look angry, just defeated, and that was probably the worst thing about it all.

"And you – "

Rachel's composure crumpled briefly, her lower lip trembling as she stared at him. She took a deep breath to steady herself and something in Nico's chest contorted painfully. He knew what was coming, and he could do nothing to stop it.

"The only reason I even thought about breaking my vow as the Oracle was because I thought it was – that _you_ were worth it," she said slowly. "But if all you're ever going to do is back down whenever you're confronted for it, and act like none of it matters to you... I guess I was wrong."

Rachel met his gaze, clearly hoping for him to say something to deny what she had said, to tell her that she hadn't heard him right and that everything he had said to Percy was all just a misunderstanding.

And as much as Nico wanted to, he couldn't. The letter from his father was burning a hole in his back pocket and Percy's gaze was boring a hole in the side of his head, both of them reminding him that there was nothing he could do to change this. The end would have come for them regardless.

If he'd had the choice, he wouldn't have ended it like this though. Not with an audience, and certainly not by deliberately hurting Rachel like this. She deserved better than this.

She deserved better than him.

"I guess you were," Nico replied with a careless shrug.

Rachel exhaled sharply, and the line of her body went rigid. He met her gaze for half a second, long enough to see the miserable disappointment flash across her face, before he looked away, focusing at a point over her shoulder.

"Fine," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Fine. Have it your way."

She whirled on her heel and moved back into the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her with as much force as she could muster.

"Happy now?" he asked Percy, bitterness infusing his tone as he watched her disappear around the corner and he heard the echoing slam of her bedroom door a few moments later.

Beside him, Percy heaved a deep sigh. He couldn't bear to look at the other man, not when he had gotten his way yet again, and Nico was once again left with nothing.

"No," Percy said softly. "Not really."

Nico made a derisive noise under his breath.

"You can show yourself out," he said, and folded himself into the darkness.

**-o-**

Over the next three days, the punching bag in Rachel's in home gym got quite the workout, as did the dart board in her bedroom as she worked through her anger about what happened with Nico Friday night. She'd tossed around quite a few old canvases around her studio for good measure too, especially when she knew he'd be listening so he'd understand that she wasn't anywhere close to forgiving him for what he had done.

Rachel didn't believe any of that nonsense about redheads having a naturally fierce temper – her temper had been perfectly normal before she had started spending her time with stupid, manipulative, asshole _demigods_.

Nico had lied to her.

He had to have, because no one – not even the supposedly soulless children of Hades – could do such a 180 degree turn with their feelings in a matter of _minutes _like he had. She'd felt the emotion in Nico's kiss, seen it in his eyes before he had disappeared with Percy out on the terrace. No one could fake that depth and sincerity, and certainly not a terrible actor like Nico.

Oh, he'd had her fooled for a couple hours. It had been easy to get caught up in the moment, to let herself get carried away with hurt and betrayal over what she had heard, but after she had finished listening to all the mopy country songs on her mp3 player (hey, a girl was allowed to have a lapse in musical judgment after having her heart crushed, okay) and wallowing in her misery, Rachel'd had her realization.

For some ungodly reason, Nico had lied to her to get her to stay away from him, and it was his lack of honesty that pissed her off most of all. If he was doing this for her _protection_ or some other macho bullshit, she was going to kick his skinny ass all the way up and down Fifth Avenue. Protecting someone wasn't about keeping them in the dark, and Rachel needed to know what was going on.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Nico was content to play his stupid game and keep her in the dark. He'd spent most of the weekend avoiding her, except when they needed to leave the apartment and then they'd only engaged in the bare minimum of conversation. He wasn't acting nice or mean or anything at all, really. He was just there, lurking in the background, like the proper bodyguard he should have been the entire time.

Well, Rachel had never wanted a proper bodyguard in the first place. She wanted her impulsive, obnoxious son of Hades back, and she was only going to get him by finding out what had turned him away from her in the first place.

And if Nico wasn't going to tell her, she knew just the immortal who would.

**-o-**

Rachel noticed Nico hovering out of the corner of her eye as she put the final touches to a drawing on her sketchpad, but she didn't acknowledge his presence until he cleared his throat moments later.

"Yeah?" she said, trying to sound disinterested. She swiped a piece of hair out of her eyes, and sat back in her chair.

"I've got to make a trip to Athena's Library. They finished the research for me over the weekend and Malcom just IM'd me about it," Nico replied, his eyes focused on a point somewhere over her shoulder. "I probably won't be gone for more than a hour so, um. Don't leave the building, okay?"

Rachel crossed her fingers behind her back. "Sure, no problem. Not like I've got anywhere to go anyway."

Nico's gaze turned suspicious at her tone, but Rachel turned back to her sketch pad, tracing and retracing lines and shapes until she heard him pull on his leather jacket and walk toward the door. She kept up the pretense of being a good little girl just until she heard the distant ding of the closing elevator doors, and then she slammed her sketchpad shut, and quickly rose from her chair.

She hadn't expected to be left alone so soon like this, otherwise she would've been slightly more prepared to get up and go. An hour didn't give her much time, and traffic was probably going to be a bitch and a half since it was early evening, especially in Midtown, but at least she'd be able to get to her destination in time without Nico trying to stop her. And once she was there, he really couldn't do anything to interfere anyway.

As she hurried to the hall closet to slip on her flats and a light jacket, a flash of white on her carpet caught her eye and she paused. Lying on the floor by the end table was a piece of paper – an envelope, actually, with a broken black seal on the back. It must've fallen out of Nico's jacket pocket on his way out, she figured, because it hadn't been there when she'd come back from class today.

Rachel bent down to pick it up, and once she had it in hand, she realized she knew who that seal had belonged to – she'd received a similar envelope like this when she had been called to have lunch with Hades and Apollo last month. The note inside was written in Hades's familiar scrawl too, although this time it was written in Ancient Greek. She did recognize one word on it though – _Apollo_.

Was this what had spurred his strange behavior on Friday? A stupid little note from his father?

Frowning, Rachel pocketed the letter and grabbed her keys, more determined than ever to get an explanation. She paused at the hall table to write Nico a note of her own, just in case he got back before her and wouldn't jump to the wrong conclusion.

_Sorry, had to make a quick run to Apollo's temple. Don't wait up for me._

She pinned the note where she knew he'd see it, and hurried out the door.

**-o-**

On the shadows of the roof of the high rise across the street, a solitary figure watched with dark amusement as the Dare heiress burst out of her apartment building and frantically flagged down a passing taxicab.

He pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his jacket as her red head disappeared inside the yellow body of the car, and dialed the number as he had been instructed. The other end picked up after two rings.

"Yes?"

"Our Oracle is out and about, sans her obnoxious little shadow," he reported casually, as if he was remarking on the weather. "Shall we make our move tonight?"

There was a pause, and then the voice on the other end said, "Yes. As of now, consider Operation Cassandra in full operation mode. We'll have everything ready for you when you arrive."

The figure snapped the phone shut at this, and leaned over the edge of the building, watching as the vehicle that held his prey disappeared down the avenue.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Rachel Elizabeth Dare," he said, a malicious grin alighting on his face. "Very soon indeed."

* * *

Next time on _Death's Dare_: Rachel and Apollo have a little chat, and Nico finds out who's been behind everything.


	12. Danger, Danger

**Author's notes:** I told you I'd get back to this updating at a reasonable rate thing. Eventually. I wanted to get this chapter out before I started my summer internship as I don't know how busy I'm going to be once that starts; hopefully I'll be able to keep updating at a pretty regular pace this summer! Thank you all for reviewing the last chapter and reassuring me that I don't suck totally.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Danger, Danger**

There was no guarantee that Apollo would actually _be_ at his temple tonight, Rachel realized a bit belatedly as the cab entered Midtown Manhattan.

She usually wasn't the one that did the visiting out of the two of them – Apollo usually dropped by at Camp Half-Blood or elsewhere if he needed to talk to her. She'd had an appointment the last time she'd visited, which had been perfunctory sort of thing, but Apollo had stressed that the temple was open to her any time she needed to stop by.

However, it looked like her chances of Apollo being around were pretty high, if the way traffic had crawled to a standstill on the avenue and the crowds of people on the sidewalk surrounding Radio City Music Hall were any indication. The god usually liked to make an appearance whenever there was an award show or concert being held inside.

Rachel hoped it was just a concert and not something big she'd have to crash like a movie premiere; she'd like to get in and out without causing as much of a scene as possible. Her father still wasn't happy with her over those gossip picture photos from the other day, and the last thing she needed right now was to show up on Access Hollywood as their latest spoiled, gatecrasher heiress.

Thankfully, it was just a concert, although that didn't make getting into the building without a ticket any easier. She'd managed to sweet talk her way into the lobby with one of the boys at the box office, but one of the gray haired upper managers caught her trying to sneak upstairs in a clearly forbidden area, and hadn't seemed particularly impressed with her claims of needing to see Apollo at first.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, miss," he said, trying to block her passage up the stairs. "If you don't have a ticket, I'm afraid I'm going to have to see you to the door."

"I'm not hear to see the show, and don't give me any of that 'I don't know' bullcrap," Rachel replied, crossing her arms over her chest and planting her feet. "I need to see Apollo. Right now."

The manager kept up his pretense of confusion long enough for Rachel to wonder if maybe he really didn't know who she was talking about, but then he rolled his eyes and huffed rather unprofessionally.

"Look, honey, we're very busy right now," he said in a condescending tone, one Rachel was sure he practiced on his grandchildren whenever they visited. "Why don't you come back and visit your daddy sometime later, okay?"

Rachel made a face. "Gross, Apollo is so not my _dad_."

If anything, the manager's next roll was even more dramatic than the first and the expression on his face clearly read, _I don't get paid nearly enough to deal with this sort of thing_. Rachel wondered how many people looking for the immortal he had turned down over the years.

"And I am not here for a godly hook-up, if that's what you were thinking," she added before he could say another word. The manager looked skeptical. "I'd be wearing better shoes if I were, okay? I'm the Oracle of Delphi. Hasn't Apollo filled you in on that position yet?"

"I can't say he has," the manager sniffed, still looking skeptical. "I was under the impression that the Oracle was a mummy in attic."

The Olympian gossip train could not possibly be this slow. Rachel wondered if it would be easier just to throw her dad's name around when she came up against mortals like this – they all seemed to respond better to that than her position as the Oracle.

"That was seven years ago. I'm the brand spanking new Oracle, and I need to see my boss," she responding, using her best authoritative voice. "_Now_."

The manager's face began to purple at her tone, but before he could call security or say another word, a hand clamped down on his shoulder and Apollo's boyish face appeared beside him.

"Easy, Clarence, I've got this one," Apollo said, grinning charmingly at the older man. Rachel was surprised to see him blush and splutter a little – clearly the effect of Apollo's good looks had no limit to age or gender. "Rachel, babe, good to see you. You here for the show?"

Apollo turned his blue gaze on her. For a moment, there was a flash of darkness on his face but it was gone so quickly, Rachel wondered if it was just the light playing tricks on her.

"No, just here to talk to you," she said, flashing him her best smile. "I hope that's okay?"

The immortal let go of Clarence, and stepped down beside Rachel, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close to him. Rachel stared at him in surprise, hardly expecting this sort of reaction from him. Apollo didn't usually initiate physical contact between them – aside from a few playful bats on the shoulder or that kiss on the cheek when she had graduated high school, touching had never been part of their interactions. The arm around her shoulder didn't feel nice or welcome at all; in fact, it was downright uncomfortable and stifling. _Possessive_, even.

Apollo wasn't doing a very good job of proving to Clarence that she wasn't his fling for the night with this kind of behavior either, Rachel noted, and she felt apprehension settle in low in her stomach. It was now occurring to her what might have been on Hades's note, and that she might have unknowingly stepped into the lion's den.

But Apollo wouldn't do anything to hurt her.

"It's _always_ okay, Rachel m'dear," Apollo replied smoothly, leading her up the stairs and past Clarence. "Now, should we talk in my office or in my private box? I've been assured this show is going to be absolutely brilliant and I'd hate for you to miss it..."

Would he?

**-o-**

The Librarian was nowhere in sight when Nico entered Athena's Library that evening, which was probably a plus for him because he still hadn't found his library card and Malcom Vanterpool didn't even bother to check him in his excitement to get Nico into the library to show him what he had found.

"Thank the gods you filed this request because I would have been stuck alphabetizing Demeter's seven hundred apple pie recipes all weekend otherwise," Malcolm said as he led him through the the winding stacks further in the library. "I was under the impression I'd be doing this kind of research the entire time, but The Librarian has been giving me grunt work while she gave everyone else the cool stuff. I only got this 'cause everyone else was busy. Story of my life, seriously."

Malcolm had been the second-in-command of the Athena cabin for as long Nico had been around at Camp Half-Blood, and he had been passed over head of cabin duties for someone a little younger than him after Annabeth had left for college. He had been bitterly disappointed by this, Nico remembered, and he thought it was too bad that he was still getting shafted even outside of camp. Some things never changed, it appeared.

"So you said you found something interesting?" Nico asked, recalling what the other boy had said in his IM. He had been beyond relieved to get that call and get out of the apartment – just being around Rachel hurt, and this was the perfect thing to distract himself from his unhappiness. "I didn't think you'd get results this fast, actually."

Malcolm's cheeks flushed as they turned into a cross section of their aisle, going deeper into one of the older areas of the library. Nico had never gone past the more modern areas in his previous visits, but he'd heard stories about the inner sanctum of Athena's Library, with its books and documents from across time and around the world – mostly from Annabeth, who would drone for hours about the ten million different types of architecture that were represented in the library or whatever.

The section they were wandering in now looked like the shelves had been plucked straight from some ancient stone monastery in Europe – there were even flickering torches in their brackets on the walls and a damp chill in the air.

"I, uh, actually didn't finish the research all the way, you see," Malcolm admitted, looking thoroughly embarrassed with himself. "I found enough to give you some answers though, and I figured having something to work with would be better than nothing, especially since you marked it as a Class Five priority."

Nico nodded. "Yeah, thanks Malcolm. I appreciate it."

"No problem," he said, and then his gray eyes flickered over to him. "Mind if I ask why you're researching death threats on Oracles though? Something hasn't happened to Rachel, has it?"

"Not yet," Nico said stiffly, his hands tightening to fists at his sides. "Someone's been trying to kill her, but we don't know who. She painted those pictures of the monsters I gave you guys, and I think they're connected somehow."

Beside him, Malcolm faltered in his step briefly, and Nico glanced at him just in time to see his face drain with color.

"Malcolm?"

"Oh, Hera's Sweet _Panties_, I can't believe I didn't make the connection!" he exclaimed, smacking himself in the forehead. "No wonder I get stuck doing the grunt work, I'm such an idiot! I should've called you in days ago..."

Malcolm hurried down the aisles, nearly running, and Nico followed after him, dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

"Malcolm," he repeated as they turned and stopped in an open space stacked with old study desks. "Do you know who the assassins are?"

There were books and scrolls and tablets from all eras of time scattered over the tables – clearly marking this as been Malcolm's work station. But the thing that caught Nico's eye was the giant tapestry hanging on the far wall behind them.

Even though it had to have been created hundreds of years ago, mostly likely by the goddess Athena herself, the tapestry featured a map of the modern world, colored with the most interesting shades of blue, greens, and yellows. The colors had to represent something – the pattern was just too random for someone at Athena's level of craft – and... were those colors _moving_?

The sound of Malcolm slamming a book onto the table drew his attention away from the tapestry, and he approached the other boy, who was swearing under his breath.

"Unfortunately, I'm about 90 percent sure I know who's after Rachel now," he said, flipping through his book before finding the page he wanted and turning the book so Nico could see the illustration.

Featured on the page was a classical portrait of a golden skinned, blonde haired young man wearing a red robe and riding in a chariot. He had been painted in a fighting pose, as if he were about to strike someone down – in his aloft hand, he held a hammer.

"Oh, you've _got _to be kidding me," Nico murmured, sinking into the chair across from Malcolm as recognition set in and disbelief began to flow through his system.

"Nico," Malcolm continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted, "what do you know about the Norse gods?"

**-o-**

"You look like you need to relax. Champagne?"

Rachel tore her gaze away from the view of Rockefeller Center far below her, and glanced at the flute of bubbling liquid Apollo was holding out for her. She hadn't said much to him on the elevator ride up to his office but he seemed to have been content with that, humming an uplifting song to fill her silence.

The humming, at least, was normal. The arm he had kept draped over her shoulders the entire way, the weird, dim setting he had kept the office lights on, and now this offering of champagne weren't. After seven years, she was used to Apollo's outrageous flirtation with her – it was part of his personality and anyway, he had never been serious with his pursuit. But these gestures were subdued, unfamiliar, and Rachel was getting the definite impression that Apollo _was_ being serious this time.

"Thank you," she said, careful to avoid touching his hands as she took the glass from him. She took a sip, and glanced back out the window, wondering if maybe she was just misreading all the signs and the dread churning in her stomach was an overreaction. "I have been kind of stressed lately."

"Totally understandable, with all the monster attacks in the in recent weeks. I'm sure you've only noticed a few of them personally," Apollo replied, catching her look of surprise in her reflection in the window. "But they've been increasing in numbers lately; we haven't seen this many on the island since the Battle of New York. Their presence is enough to drive up anyone stress levels, regardless if you're being hunted by them or not... Speaking of monsters, where's your bodyguard? Shouldn't he be skulking around here somewhere?"

"I came alone," Rachel replied slowly. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Nico."

She took a long drink of champagne, buying herself an extra few seconds to gather her courage.

There was no mistaking the disdain in Apollo's voice nor the slight frown that crinkled his otherwise perfect brow when Nico was mentioned. That dead, dreadful weight in her stomach became even heavier. Apollo had to know what had happened between her and Nico – it would be naive to assume otherwise. She wondered if he was just waiting for her to confirm it before he got angry and blasted her to bits.

"Oh?" Apollo asked, sounding hopeful. "Are you unhappy with him? Do you want him replaced? Because I can have him out of your life with a snap of my fingers if you say so, Rachel."

"No, that's not – "

"I always knew those kids of Hades were going to cause trouble. They can barely keep each other and their plants alive, let alone someone else."

Rachel turned away from the window so she could meet his gaze."Nico's done a perfectly acceptable job of keeping me safe, Lord Apollo. I'm still in one piece, aren't I?" The immortal sighed, as if it pained him to have to consider this, and then he nodded reluctantly. "I want to keep Nico around, except I thought you should that things have changed... between Nico and me."

Apollo's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at her, and the intensity of his gaze made her hands tremble slightly.

"So," he said after a long moment. "The boy's not quite as unattractive as some of his previous siblings were, I take it?"

A furious blush spread across Rachel's cheeks. "I'm sorry, it just sort of happened. We didn't go beyond kissing – "

"Oh, I know _all _about what Mr. di Angelo did with you," Apollo interrupted peevishly, sweeping toward his desk. He picked up a copy of the issue of the Post with her picture in it and waving it at her. "Cavorting around town like a love sick fool, flaunting the rules right under my nose, making me the laughingstock of Olympus... I should have vaporized the boy a long time ago, but his father had to get all _noble_ and _caring _about him."

At the mention of the lord of death's name, Rachel became aware of Hades's letter in her jacket pocket, and pulled it out. Suddenly everything was starting to make a lot more sense.

"Is that what this is about? You threatened Hades to get Nico to stay away from me?"

She held out the letter for him, and Apollo snatched it out of her hands. He glanced at it, made a dismissive snort in regards to the content, and then promptly crushed it in his fist before it erupted in a column of flame.

"Please don't get the impression that the house of Hades is innocent in all of this; he said he'd kill you if I so much as touched a hair on his son's head, and I only did what I had to to reclaim my tarnished honor," Apollo explained, opening is hand and dumping the ashes from the note carelessly on the carpet. "I told Hades I wouldn't hurt the boy so long as he did his job properly – a job that doesn't including wooing and distracting you, dear Rachel. And as long as he's behaving himself, I won't."

Well, all of that certainly explained Nico's behavior change. Death threats coming from all directions certainly had a way of killing a romance, and it was such a Nico characteristic to think he had to punish himself for putting her in danger. Oh, they were _so_ going to have a long talking to about this when she got back home...

"But _why_?" Rachel demanded, following Apollo as he moved toward his desk again. "Why do a couple of kisses matter so much? It's not like Nico bent me over the kitchen counter and had his way with me or anything; he's been very conscious of the rules. In fact, if you want to blame anyone, blame _me_. I'm the one who started everything in the first place. Nico wouldn't have come near me otherwise."

Apollo scoffed at this suggestion, plopping down into his leather chair and propping his feet up on the desk. He looked like he belonged in a spread in GQ magazine about young CEOs in that pose, and he knew it too.

"Don't be silly, Rachel. Like I'd blame you for any of this," he replied. "The di Angelo boy was obviously just bored and looking for a challenge, and you were an unfortunate causality of his manipulations. You're undoubtedly very confused. I mean, why else would you pick him over..."

Apollo stopped short, and Rachel's gaze narrowed as she understood the implication. Very carefully, she set her champagne glass on the edge of his desk, although she would've preferred to toss it's contents in Apollo's perfect face.

"Over who?" she asked tensely, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried very hard not to let her ire show more than these small gestures. "Over _you_, Lord Apollo?"

"Well," the Olympian attempted to be bashful for about three seconds, but even that was far too much time out of character for him. He put his hands behind his head and smirked at her. "Of course _me_, Rachel. Who else would there be?"

Honestly, the idea that Apollo might have some kind of feelings for her had never occurred to Rachel before. She didn't think of Apollo like that – sure, he was drop-dead gorgeous, talented and had a nice car, but he had the attention span of a goldfish when it came to mortal women, occasionally adopted the personality of a frat boy on spring break, and he was technically her boss and therefore even more off limits than normal boys – and she had assumed the lack of attraction had run both ways.

_Well, you know what they say about assuming_, a very Nico-like voice in her head pointed out unnecessarily.

She couldn't decide what pissed her off most about all of this, although his ridiculous assumption that she was supposed to wait around for him to notice her like some kind of lovesick groupie was topping the list at the moment. Not to mention he was willing to start an inter-Olympian conflict over something as insignificant as kissing because he was jealous; Rachel supposed he thought she'd be flattered by that behavior too.

"I don't think I'm the one who's confused, Lord Apollo," Rachel replied, taking a step away from his desk. "Or that Nico's the one doing the manipulating out of the three of us."

Apollo's feet fell off his desk with a loud bang, and the smirk slid off his face.

"Rachel – " he began, his tone warning.

"How am I supposed to chose _you_ if I'm supposed to be an eternal virgin? Unless... that rule is just there so you can eliminate any competition," she continued, comprehension dawning on her. "Oh, well that's just a _nice_ arrangement for you, isn't it? You get a new girl every couple of decades, and we get years of loneliness and maybe a few weeks of attention from you. That's fabulously skeevy, even for you Olympians."

"Enough," Apollo said loudly, his voice loaded with enough power to cause her discard champagne flute to wobble precariously on the desk. Rachel did as she was told, recognizing the power in his voice – Apollo had been annoyed earlier, but now he was angry. "As much as you'd like to think there's a conspiracy against you, the spirit of Delphi actually prefers a young, virginal host during the initial transition year. The rest of it is for your own protection, and keeping our world a secret. It hasn't gone well in the past when Oracles have had serious relationships with mortals. And don't even get me started about the troubles with demigods..."

"But this isn't the past!" Rachel protested, unable to help this interruption. "And Nico's different, I _know_ he is. What's the harm in letting us try and see where it goes?"

But Apollo was already shaking his head as she spoke. "And if this doesn't work out, will you be back begging me to let you fool around with some other guy six months from now? Romantic relationships are a distraction from your job, nothing more. It's not gonna happen, babe, especially not when there are monsters and assassins running around the city. You're lucky I'm still going to let him hang around as a bodyguard, unless that temptation will be too much for you?"

Rachel flushed at the patronizing tone in his voice, and felt tears of humiliation and defeat stinging in the corner of her eyes. This just wasn't fair – for one, brief beautiful moment she thought she might have a real chance at being with Nico and already it was gone.

"No, Lord Apollo," she mumbled unhappily, glancing away from him. The sun had set completely now, and the lights of the city were turning on in their full glory. "Does your threat on his life still stand?"

"Yes, and there won't be any wiggle room this time, Rachel. He so much as touches you the wrong way, and he's gone."

"You wouldn't... reconsider, after this assassin conflict was over, would you? Because I – I won't _settle_ for you," she declared forcefully, turning her gaze back to him. "I don't want you, and I _won't _take you."

Apollo's blue eyes narrowed and she could feel the air crackling with furious energy as his anger simmered, but Rachel held his gaze. She had to let him know how serious she was about this, and that he couldn't always get what he wanted through threats of violence. In the end, he was the one who broke their staring contest, because he simply swiveled around in his chair and turned his back to her.

"We'll see about that," he replied, a steely note of promise in his voice.

Rachel knew a dismissal when she heard one, and she took the opportunity to flee from his office as quickly as she could.

**-o-**

"So all these monsters that have been popping up lately," Nico said slowly, shifting through the copies of the Oracle's monster drawings he had given the library for reference, "they're all from _Norse_ mythology?"

He paused at the drawing of the monster he'd fought in Central Park. Malcolm had written in the top corner _mountain troll, last known sighting: 1904 in the Appalachians_, and Nico couldn't help the snort of disbelief that escaped him. Drakons, empousa, and hell hounds he could handle, but honest-to-god, Billy-Goats-Gruff-under-the-bridge _mountain trolls_? That was just a little too much ridiculousness at this point.

"Mostly. But I found some Egyptian and Celtic monsters in there too, plus a couple I haven't identified yet. That mix is what threw me off because you usually don't see all these different mythologies come together unless..." Malcolm swore and rustled through a stack of papers before jotting something down in his notebook. "This _really_ isn't good, man. I can't believe I missed all of this!"

"But, if the monsters exist," Nico replied, still stuck on the one train of thought that he been bugging him since the word _Norse_ had fallen from Malcom's lips, "that means the gods must too, right?"

He didn't know why this revelation had come as such a big, impossible surprise to him; it really should've been a no-brainer conclusion, actually. If the Greek gods were real and had survived this long, why in the world couldn't other mythological pantheons from around the world do so as well? The Olympians hadn't been the powerhouse in every region of the world; they'd just managed to latch on to the dominant Western Civilization better than any of the others.

Malcolm made that impatient, _I can't believe you're asking me this_ noise that belong solely to busy children of Athena.

"Of course they do. Them, the Egyptians, the Mayans... you name the mythology, their gods probably existed at some point in time. Most of the smaller deity groups died out once civilization started widely accepting monotheism, but the big ones are still around, even if they are a lot quieter than in the past," he explained, jabbing his thumb at the colorful tapestry behind him. "That tapestry belonged in the war room of Olympus at one point in time – it tracked the movements of the other pantheons and marked out their territories. It still does, actually."

"Huh," Nico said, getting to his feet and walking over to the tapestry.

The United States, Canada, some of Australia, Japan, and the majority of Europe were mostly colored in blue – that had to be the color of the Olympians, Nico decided. Some areas of Scandinavia and Eastern Europe, as well as small pockets in the states like Minnesota were green, most likely symbolizing the Germanic/Norse religion. Upper Africa and part of the Middle East were a brilliant yellow, although the Mediterranean was a mix of yellows, blues, and a few other colors Nico couldn't quite pick out.

In other areas of the world, Olympus had less of a presence – Central America and Peru were dominated by blazing red, for instance, and Russia was a steely gray expanse of land.

Nico just sat back and stared at the tapestry for a long moment, taking it all in. Here was all the evidence anyone needed that _something_ out there existed and it was just mind-boggling to think that all of these different mythologies with their own stubborn, frightening gods had co-existed on the _same_ planet for the last couple millennia or so. Although he highly doubted that it had been an entirely _peaceful_ co-existence.

"When's the last time there was some kind of inter-mythology throw-down?" Nico asked, curious for the answer. The Olympians had gotten to the top in their world by besting the Titans in battle; it wouldn't be entirely far-fetched to assume they had beaten back all outside threats and conquered other areas of the world in the same manner. And that sort of power had to breed resentment, which left to fester for hundreds of years could be the source of all sorts of dangerous schemes and power plays...

"World War I," Malcolm replied immediately. "In fact, most mortal wars have some kind of mythological conflict going on in the background – the mood of the gods can have a heavy effect on mortals. There were some skirmishes in the Pacific in WWII, but that was mostly an inter-Olympian conflict so all the other deities stayed out of it. Most of them were still recovering from their losses from the first war anyway. "

Nico peered closely at the spot on the tapestry that was supposed to represent Manhattan Island; he started, surprised, as the tapestry shivered and then enlarged the area for him so he could see it better. Well, wasn't that handy?

"Did you know Brooklyn is Egyptian territory?" he asked after a brief examination, and Malcolm grunted negatively. "Does _anyone_ know about them? How can they be so close to Olympian power, and no one cares? That's just stupid."

He didn't like the very idea that they had immortal enemies sitting right across the river from them, easily within striking distance. The thought of it made his stomach twist anxiously.

"We don't have to worry about the Egyptians. They haven't had any serious power since the days of Cleopatra, and all they've got left are a handful of magicians anyway. They wouldn't dare to take on Olympus at their current power level, especially since we've kind of developed an unspoken truce with them. The Norse, on the other hand, are always eager to make asses of themselves whenever an opportunity has presented itself historically," the other boy said, rustling some papers. "Here, I've got something for you to see."

Nico turned away from the tapestry, and moved back toward Malcolm's table. The son of Athena was holding out a long piece of paper for him to read – as he took it from him, Nico could see that it was a list of names, dates, and places.

"These are nearly all the Oracles killed while in service to Lord Apollo – I think there's about 159 of them, which is actually astonishingly low when compared to demigod death rates. Anyway, the majority of them were killed by mortals or in freak accidents, but then there's these," Malcolm pointed to one of the names of the handful of names he had starred, "These Oracles were murdered either right before or sometime after a mythological conflict or big world event.

"Cassandra? Killed after the Trojan War. This girl Octavia, just before Julius Caesar was murdered. Joan of Arc during the Hundred Year's War, and so on. Most of their deaths are described in the records as 'causality of godly warfare,' which usually indicates someone on the outside did the deed. Most often than not, it's the Norse. It's like their signature move when they want to start something."

"So this has all happened before?" Nico replied, the edges of the paper crinkling as his grip on it tightened with anger. "Dammit, my father and Apollo said they had no clue who was trying to kill Rachel."

"Well, to be fair, the last time a Norse agent killed an Oracle was before the American Revolution, and Olympians don't exactly have the best memory when it comes to this sort of stuff. Besides, the Oracle gets targeted enough by figures from within our own mythology that it's just easier to assume someone in the family is up to no good. I shouldn't have to tell _you _who put the curse on Rachel's predecessor, after all."

Nico grumbled a terse, "Yeah, yeah," under his breath, hated to be reminded if this dark chapter of his family's past.

So if it _were_ the Norse gods who were after Rachel this time, what would their motivation be now? By what Malcolm had said, their last conflict had been almost a century ago and while he knew that was barely a blip in the passage of time for immortals, it seemed like they would've tried something else before now if they were after revenge for that. Unless they were attempting to take back power from Olympus, but that would just be stupid, considering Olympus –

Oh.

Oh _fuck_, maybe it wasn't so stupid after all. Maybe it was actually kind of strategically brilliant.

Olympus was not the bright and shining star it had been the last hundred years. They were still recovering from the Second War with the Titans, and was the weakest it had been in recent memory. The Norse must have been waiting for the Titans to take the Olympians down, and since they had failed, someone else was going to take up the mantel.

Killing Rachel would just be the start of it, the ancient first move in mythological war games. The gods might be able to weather the storm, but seven years was too soon for Camp Half-Blood and the demigods to go back to war. Only a handful of them had escaped the Titan War unscathed, and camp had been filled with too many young faces the last time he had visited – they weren't ready for this conflict and the other pantheons were ready to taken advantage of it.

"Shit," Nico said, running a hand over his face to disguise the sudden trembling in his limbs. "This is going to be bad, isn't it?"

"_Really_ bad," Malcolm confirmed miserably.

**-o-**

Most of the crowd outside of the music hall had gone inside or dispersed by the time Rachel exited the front doors a few minutes later. There were a few stragglers about – it wouldn't be New York without _someone_ on the streets at all times – but none of them were paying attention to the distressed redhead as she tried to hail a cab.

She was overwhelmed by what had happened in Apollo's office, and her emotions were all over the place, so it was easy to mistake her usual prickling sense of danger for something else. It was equally as easy to get caught up in her thoughts so the black Town Car that had been lurking around the corner, waiting for her to reappear, was able to escape her notice and pull up silently behind her.

When she noticed the car at last, her attention was caught by the hulking shadow that had appeared behind her in the smooth glass of the car's passenger window. All thoughts of Apollo went out of her head as survival mode kicked in, and she realized just how much trouble she was in.

"Hey!" Rachel shouted warningly, turning on her heel, but by then, it was already too late.

The shadowy figure grabbed on to her arms with an iron grip as the town car's back seat door popped open; Rachel shouted and struggled, but the her assailant was much stronger than her and shoved her back into the car without hesitation.

Pain erupted in her body as she hit her head hard on the car's door frame, and she landed limply on her back on the plush seats, dazed. Distantly, she heard the car door shut and felt it begin to move under her. Beside her, someone shifted and another shadowed figure glanced down at her.

"Damn, we weren't supposed to make her bleed yet," he murmured, and the last thing Rachel saw before she blacked out were the ice blue eyes of her assassin.

* * *

I do so love my cliffhangers, don't I?

Next time on** _Death's Dare_**: Rachel and her assassins have a heart-to-heart.


	13. Enemy Mine

**Author's notes: **I suppose I can't apologize enough for the long wait for this chapter, can I? I had a very busy summer and an even busier fall semester. I have every intention of finishing this fic, but I'm in my senior year of college, so I'm gearing up to graduate in the spring so I have several other concerns on my mind besides writing which, believe me, I hate just as much as you do. This is probably about the fifth version of this chapter and I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but at this point it's probably better just to let it out into the wild world. Enjoy and happy holidays!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Enemy Mine**

"Something's wrong."

"What?" Malcolm asked, turning back a few pages in his notes. "Did I miss something? Or do you want me to go back to page five sixty?"

Ever since he'd stepped inside Athena's Library, Nico had felt anxiety welling up inside of him. At first, he'd brushed it off as his own stomach twisting excitement over Malcolm's discoveries and later, the horrifying feeling of falling ass-over-kettle into a game changing scenario he wasn't prepared for.

But now, long minutes after he had recovered from his shock, the anxiety was _still_ growing, reaching crushing heights and almost making him sick from the power of it, and there was absolutely no reason for it. No reason except that maybe it wasn't _his_ anxiety he was feeling at all.

"No," Nico said, twisting the moonstone ring on his thumb absentmindedly. It had begun to itch around the same time his anxiety had reached fever pitch, reinforcing the idea that it wasn't his emotions at work here. "It's not — "

Suddenly, sharp, white-hot pain ripped through his head and he cried out, cupping his head in his hands and willing the pain to stop. He didn't know why this was happening or what was causing it and he was going to throw up if it didn't stop _now_ —

"Nico!" Malcolm exclaimed, putting a hand on his shoulder. The other boy's touch grounded him to reality and within second, the pain was receding as fast as it had come on, leaving him panting and aching. "Dude, what the fuck's wrong with you? Are okay?"

Nico shook his head, unable to squeeze words out in-between his gasps for air. The crushing anxiety had disappeared right along with the pain, leaving him strung out and empty, except for one frantic little emotion.

Panic.

He stood abruptly from his chair, knocking books and papers to the floor. Malcolm stared at him, gray eyes wide, and opened his mouth to speak. Nico beat him to it.

"Rachel's in trouble," he rasped hoarsely. He began moving toward the stacks blindly, trying to find enough shadow so he could slide away, get to her side faster.

"I gotta — I can't — "

Malcolm's footsteps hurried after him, and Nico didn't bother to wait for him to catch up. Malcolm would only get in his way and he couldn't let that happen, not again, not again —

He tried to move through the shadows, but nothing happened. The shadows didn't even react to his presence, let alone bend to his will and need to move. They stayed where they were, arching harmlessly and lifelessly on the stone floor.

Nico his stomach drop down to his toes. Why weren't the shadows responding to him? Had he lost his concentration in his panic? But that had never happened before; shadow traveling had become second nature to him! Was something blocking his powers?

"Wait, how do you even know she's in trouble?" Malcolm asked. "She's not — oh gods, she's not _dead_, is she?"

Nico's heart sputtered to a horrified stop for the briefest of seconds, and then he shot the son of Athena a fierce look over his shoulder. "Don't say shit like that! _She is not dead_!"

Underneath their feet, the ground rumbled and the torches flickered ominously in their brackets, the elements responding to Nico's power as his panic and anger grew. Malcolm put up his hands in a placating manner, like Nico was some kind of dog that might bite him if he made the wrong move, and that just made him even angier.

"Nico, chill out. I can't help you if you're being Psycho Child of the Big Three right now," he said soothingly. "You can take a minute to tell me — "

"No, I _can't. _I don't have a minute," Nico snapped, grinding his teeth. "It doesn't matter how I know, just that I _do_ know that Rachel is in trouble. _Serious_ trouble, and I can't waste any more time fucking around here, so if you would tell me why the hell I can't shadow travel out of here, I would appreciate it!"

Malcolm's brow furrowed. "Shadow travel? That's an umbrakinetic activity, right? Wow, you guys really do get all the cool powers... " His enthusiasm died at the violent look Nico sent him. "Okay, right. No more sidetracking. Anyway, you can't leave the Library any way but the front door. That's the rule, to prevent thieves and unwanted people from getting in unnoticed — "

Nico let out a noise of frustration, and grabbed Malcolm by the collar of his t-shirt. "Then show me the way out already!"

Malcolm nodded, fear apparent in his gaze, and Nico let go of him. He'd have to apologize for acting unhinged later, but right now, getting to Rachel was more important than manners. However, instead of leading him back out of the stacks, Malcolm turned back around, toward his studying area.

"What are you doing?" Nico demanded, following reluctantly. "We don't have time for this!"

"Trust me, you're going to need these if you're expecting to fight the Norse," Malcolm replied, grabbing a few books and shoving them into his backpack. "They don't follow the same rules as we do, and they have different weaknesses. You're gonna need to read up."

"I don't have time to _read_ — "

Malcolm turned and slammed a book into his chest. Nico contemplated hitting him for that, but he recognized the look in his eyes — it was the same one Annabeth got right when she was ready to head into battle and had a master strategy in mind.

"The Norse aren't going to kill her right away. They'll want to get a prophecy or two out of her first, or maybe try to convince her to switch sides. You have the time. If you walk in blind, you're basically guaranteeing her death and yours."

Nico grit his teeth, but shoved the book into the inner pocket of his jacket. As much as he hated to admit it, Malcolm did have a point. Damn smartass kids of Athena.

"Fine," he said shortly. "You have everything we need?"

Malcolm nodded, shoving a scroll into his bag before hoisting it over his shoulder. However, before he could lead Nico away, movement on the wall behind him caught both their attention.

Athena's immortal territory tapestry rippled as the threads and patterns rearranged into a close-up view of Manhattan Island. The island remained a bright, beautiful blue for a few seconds before a spot of green appeared appeared smack in the middle of it — green, the color of the Norse.

"Maybe we don't have as much time as I thought," Malcolm muttered, grabbing Nico by the arm and dragging him through the aisles. "Run!"

**-o-**

_Nice_ and _quiet _were two words Percy Jackson hardly got to use about his life, but tonight, things certainly were nice and quiet around his apartment. He'd managed to cook dinner without burning anything, had a conversation with Annabeth over the phone that managed to be somewhat romantic rather than the two of them snarking back and forth for an hour, _and_ had finished his homework two days before it was due instead of procrastinating on it for once.

It figured that peace would be ruined the instant he decided to kick back, crack open a beer, and watch the Mets game. The universe liked to keep him on his toes in that way.

There was a crash in his kitchen, and Percy turned his head just in time to see Malcolm doubling over to throw up in his garbage can. His eyes flickered upward and met Nico's intensely black gaze.

"Trouble?" he asked, turning off his TV.

"Like you wouldn't believe," the son of Hades replied, tossing a book at him.

Percy caught it and glanced at the cover. _The Norse Gods and Monsters Guide For Lazy Demigods Who Can't Be Bothered To Do Proper Research and Don't Want to Get Their Heads Chopped Off_. Oh, lovely.

"Someday, I am going to figure out how to shadow-travel proof my apartment so you have to call about these sorts of things like a normal person," Percy sighed, getting to his feet. "So. What do we gotta do?"

**-o-**

"Is she awake yet?"

"This is the seventh time you've asked this hour and the answer is still the same — _no_. Maybe if you had done what you were asked and brought her back _conscious_ — "

Rachel's head felt achy and heavy, and the yelling — whoever was doing it, it certainly didn't sound like Nico or her father, maybe it was Percy — wasn't helping to dull the sharp pain that throbbed in her temple. Didn't they know better than to shout when she had a headache? Gods, the nerve of some people...

She let out a minute groan, although the sound that was swallowed by another shout.

"How is it _my_ fault that she went and cracked her head on the car door? We're lucky she was distracted and didn't put up much of a fight. Whoever thought it was a good idea to stage a kidnapping in the middle of touristville is a total idiot."

_Kidnapping_.

The word cut through the hazy, groggy pain of Rachel's mind, clearing her senses immediately. Images flashed through her mind — the sleek Town Car, the shadowy figure in the window glass, the ice blue eyes evaluating her like a pawn on a chess board — as the night's previous events came roaring back to her. These weren't her friends arguing right now — those voices belonged to the people who wanted to _kill_ her.

"That wasn't just touristville," a deep voice to her right said. "We go her right outside one of the Olympian power hubs. Right under their noses and they didn't even notice. Arrogant pricks."

Her eyes flew open. They had her right where they wanted her — helpless, defenseless and absolutely alone.

Panic bubbled inside her and Rachel had to fight to stop a pitiful, frightened whimper from escaping her throat. She was slumped over, tied to a chair, a curtain of redhead hiding her face, and she was absolutely helpless. She was going die, they were going to kill her, and — and —

She shifted in her chair and felt the steadying weight of the moonstone necklace Nico had given her slide against her collarbone. No... no, she wasn't totally alone and she wouldn't be for long.

She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to calm down and regain her focus. She wouldn't help herself by being an idiot and _panicking_. She needed to stay calm and _think_. Wasn't that what Chiron always told the new demigods while they had trained at camp? If you're in trouble, take a deep breath, calm down, and assess the situation before doing anything stupid.

First things first. Was she hurt in any debilitating sort of way? Aside from the throbbing in her head, she didn't think so. Her arms ached from where they have been positioned behind her and her wrists were a little sore from the ropes used to bind them together. But they had left her legs free and the ropes around her wrists seemed a little loose. Maybe she could work them off while they were distracted, to at least give herself a fighting chance.

The chair creaked alarmingly loud as she shifted, and she prayed that her captors would miss that sound just as they had missed her earlier groan.

Sharp fingers grasped the back of her neck and yanked her head upright; Rachel gasped loudly, blinking back tears bright light flooded in her eyes and her head throbbed painfully in response to the over-stimulation.

"She's awake," a nasally male voice said from behind her, pinching his fingers into her neck to draw another gasp of pain out of her. "Probably has been for a little while, the bitch."

"Oh good," a woman's voice said, almost sounding bored. "Let's get this over with already. I have a party to go to."

In any other, non-life threatening circumstance, Rachel might have found her indifference amusing. It figured that even when someone was trying to kill her, she'd be seen as an inconvenience. There was almost something reassuringly familiar about it all.

"Would you stop fucking whining? Operation Cassandra's your priority now. You're not going to your damn party, _Liv_."

Rachel knew that name _and_ that voice. But it couldn't be...

"Liv?" Rachel asked, before she could stop herself. Her voice was hoarse and small with pain. "Liv _Astor_?"

The man behind her made a sound of disgust, and let go of her neck, shoving her head forward.

"I told you letting her see our faces was a bad idea! We should've just hired people to do this, but no. You two had to have the fucking satisfaction of doing it _yourselves,_" he said as Rachel's vision cleared and her gaze settled on the woman lounging on the elegant blue chaise a few feet in front of her.

Still pretty and petite, the short-haired blonde didn't look much different from the last time Rachel had seen her, even if that had been almost four years ago in the dorm they had shared at Clarion Academy.

Liv gave Rachel a sarcastic little wave and said, "Hey _Rach_. Long time, no see."

Rachel was too shocked for words. What the _hell_ was _Liv Astor_ doing involved in an assassination plot of the Oracle of Delphi?

Liv was a Manhattan socialite, one of those people who were famous simply for having an old surname, tons of cash, and being skinny and pretty. Rachel hadn't seen her much since her days at the academy, except maybe in photos on the gossip page now and then or at social events where they'd largely ignore each other, but she'd heard her father talking about how the Astors were strapped for cash now, thanks to a bad business venture on Mr. Astors's part.

As much as Rachel disliked her, she was pretty sure she would've noticed if Liv was a demigod during their years as roommates. And Liv probably wouldn't have made as much fun of her for collapsing as she did if she had known she was the Oracle.

"Oh will you stop your bitching already, Jake?" Liv replied, turning her gaze away momentarily. "She's not gonna tell anyone, are you, Rach?"

"Is this some kind of prank?" Rachel said, not bothering to hide the incredulity in her voice.

Liv's perfectly shaped eyebrows knotted together, confused, and she turned to look at the remaning member of her group.

Rachel followed her gaze and was greeted by another familiar face – Eric Delano, the owner of the icy blue eyes from the car. He was the youngest son of a failed line of Wall Street executives, and still handsome – exceedingly so, actually. Rachel was sure it was taking all of Liv's will power not to jump into his lap and have at him. But the look in his eyes was unkind and cruel, especially when it was directed at her.

She remembered Eric accompanying his father to Dare Enterprises to negotiate with her father a few years ago, before the stock market took a dive again. Thanks to Rachel's predictive abilities and her father's good business sense, the Dare family had avoided the brunt of the economic blow, but families like the Delanos had the majority of their wealth wiped out.

And if Eric was here, it meant that the third member of the little group could only be his perpetual shadow, the brutish Jake Van Buren. Last she'd heard, Jake had been kicked out of Yale for cheating and general misconduct, and was now trying his luck at professional boxing.

"A prank?" Liv repeated when Eric didn't answer for her. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"Or like some kind of Upper East Side hazing ritual that I was unaware of?" Rachel continued, ignoring her. "Because, really, I don't want to have any part of this. I don't even _like_ you guys, much less wanna be part of your little club hopping, snobby Sunday brunch clique."

Her fear had disappeared and confidence had come back in spades once she realized who her kidnappers were; it was hard to be terrified of the girl who had made you kill spiders when she was seventeen. These three were spoiled brats, sure, but hardly _dangerous_.

"The feeling's mutual, bitch," Jake muttered, and Eric shot him a silencing glare.

"You know perfectly well what this is about, Rachel," Eric said, his voice even and sure. "In fact, if everything we've been told is true, you should've _known _this was coming."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel replied airily, although her denial was not exactly convincing. Even though she'd heard enough to convince her that the trio knew the Greek gods were still alive, there was no telling what they didn't know and she'd had to escape only to be fried by Zeus's lightning bolts for revealing secrets.

"Playing dumb isn't going to work, _Oracle_," Liv all but spat. "We know everything about you."

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Rachel said, leaning back in her chair confidently. Jake was still behind her, so she could only fiddle with the ropes around her wrists causally. "If you knew everything about me, you'd know that this whole kidnapping thing was probably the worst thing you could do. Ever."

Eric exchanged a look with Liv, and rose out of his chair. Rachel figured now would be an appropriate time for him to go into evil villain mode and rant about his excellently laid plans and how no one, not even Zeus himself, was going to stop him from world domination, so she could work on freeing herself while Jake and Liv were distracted by their fawning over him. This entire situation seemed like a plot out of a really horrible B-movie the way it was; a few more cliches wouldn't hurt it any.

Instead, he walked silently toward her, bent forward, and cupped her chin in his palm. Rachel's skin tingled, repulsed by the unwelcome, foreign touch, and she yanked her head away, glaring at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Eric smirked, and then slid his palm down her neck until his fingers found the chain of her necklace and yanked it free. Rachel yelped as the chain bit into her neck before falling free; the pain lingered, but she didn't concern herself with that. Her one chance of Nico learning her location had been taken away. How had Eric known about the necklace?

"This was the stupid thing the priestess wanted, right?" Eric said, tossing the necklace to Liv.

She held it up to the light and nodded. "That's it. God, this looks cheap. I guess she couldn't improve her taste with that magic of hers... "

Rachel's heart dropped down to her stomach. Priestess? He couldn't mean – not –

"Guess you thought we'd be too dumb not to make allies on your side," Jake husked in her ear, leaning forward and bracing his hands on her shoulders. Rachel shuddered, wishing she could dislodge him. "Too bad not everyone likes the precious little Oracle. Turns out you pissed off one very powerful priestess of Hecate by stealing her boyfriend and she decided to help us out... "

_Kate_. She'd probably found out about her and Nico through those paparazzi pictures like Apollo had, and went ballistic about it. Why was everyone in this ridiculous family so _jealous_? When she got out of this, Rachel was going to _kill _that jealous, green haired little traitor.

"She even did some of that voodoo on this room here," Jake continued, "so that your demigod buddies can't get inside. Even if they found you, as long as you're in here, no one with Greek blood in their veins is getting in."

"Not to mention you're not getting any help from your gods," Eric added, putting his hands in his pockets. "They can't interfere with mortal business and they make it even less of a priority to interfere when other pantheons are involved."

_Rachel's head was beginning to spin. Other _pantheons? Did they even exist? And if they did, what would another group of deities want with _her_?

"So basically," Liv said, tearing her gaze away from the necklace to shoot an evil little smirk in her direction. "You're screwed, Rachel Dare. Especially once we get through with you."

* * *

**Next time on _Death's Dare_:** Questions are answered! At last!

Also, another note in regards to _The Lost Hero_. This fic is obviously a post-series AU from here on out; I'm not labeling it as such since it was started before TLH came out. Characters from TLH will not be appearing in DD, although some of the new information in regards to the Roman gods might appear as it does have relevance to the plot of this fic. I'll have a spoiler warning for chapters that bring that up if that's necessary at that point.


	14. Shadow Games

**Author's notes:** I suppose I can't apologize enough for taking so long to update, but I had a lot of major life changes in the past year (graduating, getting a job, moving, all that fun adult stuff) and my focus wasn't on finishing this fic. Now that my life has somewhat settled down, I've had the time to sit down and think about the plot for this fic and really hammer the details out. I'm going to push myself to finish it by August, if I can, so I hope this is the first of many updates in the next couple of weeks. No promises, however.

Please enjoy the new chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

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**Chapter 14: Shadow Games**

All things considered, Rachel really shouldn't have laughed. Because what kind of sane person laughs at the people trying to kill her?

She just couldn't help herself, though. It was impossible not to laugh at the three of them, especially not after she spotted the proud, twisted smirk Liv shot at her as she proclaimed Rachel was screwed. Their entire operations was so whole cartoon villain it hurt. _These_were the people she'd spent the sleepless nights worrying about? It almost seemed like a waste.

And laughter? Laughter was one of the few weapons she had left at this point. She didn't see anything wrong with throwing her head back and laughing for all her worth, especially if it would buy her a few more minutes to think of a plan.

As her chuckles grew louder, Liv's smirk faded and she exchanged a confused look with her two companions. Clearly this wasn't going at all like she had fantasized it would.

"Why is she laughing? Doesn't she understand?" Liv asked, looking for at Eric for an answer.

"Shut up, Dare," Jake added in a low, warning rumble. His hands clenched roughly on her shoulders, inches away from her neck, and Rachel's laughter died with a little yelp. "Before I do it for you."

"Jake," Eric said warningly, glaring at his companion. "I think you've already done enough damage to the girl tonight the way it is. Knock it off."

Jake's grip loosened, then fell off completely as he stepped away from her. Rachel, however, didn't have a chance to enjoy her relief as Eric immediately took his place, leaning in close to her, his handsome face overcome by a dark glower.

"So tell us, Rachel," he said slowly, evaluating her with his icy blue eyes. His stare unnerved her but she wouldn't let him see how much he intimidated her. "What exactly was so funny?"

Rachel decided to ignore the question.

Although her three kidnappers might know about Olympus and other gods as well, it was becoming rather clear to Rachel that they didn't know the Olympians like she did. And, judging by the way they sniped at each other, they weren't as well organized and cohesive as she first thought they would be. They weren't smarter than her; they had simply gotten lucky tonight.

She had to outsmart them. The real question was _how_.

"You know, when I was told someone was trying to kill me, I pictured something with fangs and a bit more drooly. You guys are a real disappointment," she replied, glancing at them all before settling back on Eric. "I'll admit, you surprised me. People like you aren't supposed to know about the gods. But it's pretty clear that you haven't the slightest clue what you're fucking around with and I'd suggest you let me go right now before you get hurt."

It was Liv's turn to giggle at that, but she sounded forced and shrill, and Eric grimaced as the sound echoed throughout the room, ruining the intimidating mood. He tried to recover it, his lips spreading into what had to be his sociopathic boardroom smile, but she wasn't going to give him an inch.

"Rachel, Rachel — "

"Don't even start with the patronizing bullshit, Eric," Rachel snapped. "I looked the Lord of the Titans in the eye and threw a hairbrush at him when I was fourteen. Trust me when I say this: you entitled fuckers don't scare me."

His eyes flickered with rage and before she could brace herself, Eric slapped her across the face. Rachel's head exploded into a kaleidoscope of pain and she bit down on her lip, letting out a tiny cry.

Now, Rachel could believe Eric would have it in him to kidnap and plot to kill someone. He clearly had nothing to lose and everything to gain, and Rachel was one of the few things standing in the way. That made him much more dangerous than Jake, the obvious physical brute of bunch. She'd have to be more careful with him.

"You Dares think you know _everything_," he spat, yanking her face forward again. His composure was gone, replaced by rage and a faint tinge of instability. "You're nothing but a bunch of lucky, middle class upstarts and you're done messing with how this city is run, do you understand me? We're going to ruin you, just like your father ruined us."

The throbbing in Rachel's head was making it hard to concentrate on his words, but she could've sworn... wasn't this supposed to be about Olympus? About some age old conflict between the gods and their enemies? What in Hades name was Eric talking about?

Eric let go of her roughly and turned, running a hand through his hair and trying to regain his self-control. He swatted Liv's hand away as she reached out for him, and she pouted, glaring at Rachel petulantly.

"What," Rachel asked slowly, trying to focus. "What does my dad have to do with any of this?"

"You're kidding, right?" Jake said, arching an eyebrow. She shook her head and immediately regretted the movement as her stomach swelled with nausea. "Oh, that's rich. And we're the ones who don't know what the fuck we're talking about? Christ."

"I bet you thought you so much more superior than the rest of us at Clarion because you knew about the Olympians," Liv sneered, enjoying the moment. "Well guess what, Rachel — you're not that fucking special. Anyone who's family's been on this island since the 1600s or has any kind of lasting influence in the mortal world knows about the gods, even if we're not beholden to the same ones."

"So you knew then," Rachel said carefully, glancing at Liv. "You knew what I was at school."

"No," the other girl huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder in an irritated manner. "I just thought you were a psycho weirdo. I didn't connect the dots until that stupid priestess told us who you were a while ago. But it totally made sense, what with your dad and all."

Where Warren Dare fit in this mess was a question that could be answered later... because there would be a later, Rachel decided, if only so she could scream at her father if it turned out he had been lying to her her entire life. She was not going to die with that mystery hanging over her head.

Rachel's mind was spinning with all this new information, trying to make sense of it all as quick as she could. This was the second time one of them had mentioned other gods. It couldn't be coincidence. The immortals who wanted her dead weren't from Olympus; they belonged to another mythology entirely.

And New York City...

New York was where all the mythologies of the world collided and staked their claim, where they could each have a neighborhood or a street or an island to call their own. Olympus had long been the dominate force in the city, but it couldn't have always been that way. Someone had to have come first, someone who wanted their rightful place back and would do everything to see that it was done.

And of course, they would align themselves with the rich and powerful of the city. Or the formerly rich and powerful, like the three people in front of her. Their families had a lost a great deal of respect and capital during the recession and through bad luck, and Rachel could imagine it only took a few promises of restored glory and shining treasures for them to get on board with an a plot like this. They wanted control of the mortal portion of the city again.

"Let me guess," she said. "The Olympians pissed you off, someone's offered you a better deal and now you're out for a nice bit of revenge?"

"The Olympians _abandoned_ our families," Eric corrected, having recovered his cool. His hair was a bit messier and his tie loose around his neck; both simple reminders of the dark rage that lurked inside him. "We'd served them faithfully for almost a century, and as soon as the new millenium comes... all of that, _gone_, for a bunch of dotcom mouth breathers, Jersey strip mall developers and their little bastard godlings."

Rachel almost reminded him that her father was from Iowa, not Jersey, but her stinging cheek reminded her that it might be best to keep her snappy comments to herself for a little while longer.

"_Your_families served them, you mean," Jake grunted. He squared his shoulders proudly. "The Van Bruens have always belonged to Odin."

"Odin?" Rachel repeated. "Like Thor's _dad_Odin? That's who you're working for?" None of them answered her, preferring to give her insufferable smug looks, and Rachel couldn't help herself. "You're shitting me. What are you trying to do, assemble The Avengers or something? Jesus."

So much for being careful. She regretted the quip as soon as it came out of her mouth, but thankfully, neither Eric nor Jake made a move toward her and settled for scowling instead.

"Hilarious," Liv said, sarcasm dripping from every letter of the word. She reached down and rustled through her designer bag. Rachel's eyes widened as she re-emerged with an ancient and definitely wicked looking dagger in her hands. "Are we finished with 20 Questions yet? I'd really like to get this over with ASAP. I told you Wednesday was a bad day for me schedule wise."

Jake pushed up his jacket sleeve and looked at his Rolox. "The priestess said everything would be ready by 10. It's 9:50. Chill the fuck out."

Rachel's heart skipped a beat. She had ten minutes. Ten minutes to figure her way out of this or find some way to get Nico or Percy or anyone to her, or she was dead.

"I guess I should just ask the obvious question next, huh?" Rachel said, slowly beginning to fiddle with the ropes binding her hands together again. "What's my part in all of this? If you want to start some kind of war between the gods, I'm a bit too low on the totem pole to get that accomplished."

"It's not that hard to figure out, is it, Dare?" Jake said, circling around her again. Rachel stilled and then stiffened as his hands brushed through her hair. "We need a sacrifice, and you're the only guaranteed virgin in Manhattan... although that might not last much not longer if I've got anything to say about it."

Disgust and fear simmered in her stomach, and Rachel tried not to wonder how many other girls had been on the receiving end of Jake's leer and unwanted touch. Facing imminent death was something that she was, unfortunately, somewhat used to, but that... that was something that would break her and Jake knew it. The bastard.

"Don't touch me," she replied, yanking away from him as best as she could. "Or I'll make you regret it."

Jake laughed, leaning closer, his hands moving down her neck. Gods, she had to get way, she needed _help_. "How you gonna do that when you're tied to a chair?"

"How about you look me in the eyes and ask that question?" Rachel said as the churning in her stomach began to turn into something much more powerful and familiar. "Or any questions for that matter. How about, 'Rachel, is this stupid plot of ours going to work or will we end up deader than doornails?' You know I've got the answer, so why don't you just _ASK ME_."

As she proclaimed the last words, the spirit of Delphi's voice joined hers, causing Rachel's voice to drop an octave and echo menacingly. She could feel the spirit under her skin, vibrating with power. It hadn't taken over her body fully as it usually did when it emerged; they were sharing control for once, to remind the foolish mortals who they were dealing with...

Jake jumped away from her with a, "Holy _shit_, her eyes!", and Liv on the couch gasped loudly when she turned her gaze on her. The third's reaction was more subdued, perhaps because he had the most experience with beings like her, but he took a step back from her all the same.

"Go on," Rachel hissed, focusing on the weak willed brute and letting the power in her voice seep into his head. "I've seen your future, Jacob Van Bruen... what's left of it, anyway. Would you like to know more? Just say _please_."

She grinned, feeling his willpower slipping and the start of a question forming on his lips. Once he asked, she'd have complete access to his precious little mind and she'd twist and turn it so he would never hurt anyone again —

Somewhere behind her, the door burst open, banging against the wall, and a voice shouted, "I thought I told ya to _blindfold_her!"

Rachel blinked and the spell was broken. The spirit of Delphi left her instantly, and she slumped forward, gasping and shivering as her body went haywire, trying to recover from the possession. She'd never had a reaction like this before and it hurt.

"You didn't tell us she'd do _that_!" Jake shouted, failing to mask the trembling fear in his voice. "Jesus Christ, she was _in my head_! Blindfold her before she does it again!"

"Don't even bother now," the newcomer's voice said and Rachel distantly recognized her Irish accent — Kate. "The Oracle can't repossess its host when she's this weak. It probably did ya a favor in the long run, actually."

Someone was making horrible choking noises and Rachel realized moments later that it was _her_, sobbing because her head and body hurt so badly and she had been so close to being free...

"So, everything's ready then?" Eric asked, and she felt his hands on her arms, dragging her to her feet. Rachel wobbled, feeling like a useless rag doll, but she had enough strength to glance up at Kate.

"Yes," the green-haired girl said, meeting her gaze for half a second. Rachel thought maybe she was imagining the guilt in her eyes, the product of wishful thinking that anyone involved in this had a conscious. "Let's get upstairs and get this over with. I'd rather not be around once the son of Hades finds out she's dead."

* * *

He couldn't sense her.

It didn't mean she was dead, Nico told himself over and over again, as he stretched his powers as far as they could reach. He knew what dead felt like, and he certainly hadn't felt the cold, hollow shiver down his spine or the buzzing in his ears as Thanatos claimed another soul close to him.

He felt _nothing_, which in some ways, was much worse. It was extremely difficult to look for and find nothing.

It didn't make sense. He'd felt her terror earlier in the evening until it had abruptly dulled, and then again briefly a few minutes ago before it vanished, leaving nothing but a Rachel-shaped void in his mind. That brief presence hadn't been enough to trace her whereabouts; Nico had tried shadow traveling to that point we he'd felt her and nearly ended up in the Hudson River.

_Please_, he thought, even though he wasn't exactly sure who he was praying to, _I can't lose her. I can't do this again. Please._

"Okay, I think I found something," Malcolm said, breaking Nico's concentration. He opened his eyes and looked expectantly at the blond boy sitting at Percy's kitchen table. "According to this book, the last time the Norse gods were seen on Midgard — that is, Earth — during the mythological conflict that occurred at the same time as World War I. That's because Olympus somehow managed to seal off Midgard from Asgard and the other seven worlds in the Norse myth."

"They can do that?" Percy asked, glancing up from the sketch pad in his hands. Nico had raided Rachel's room and studio for anything she might've sketched in the past few days that could give them clues to where she was. It was a long shot, but if she had seen the monsters, she might've seen something else. "Isn't that, I don't know, cheating or something?"

"It'd be no different than if the Norse decided to trash the Olympian throne room. All pantheons have to be anchored to the mortal world somehow and if another group is clever enough to get past your defenses, well... " Malcolm shrugged. "Anyway, the ritual to seal the Midgard off requires the 'blood of the one who sees all worlds and all of time.'"

"An Oracle," Nico said. "That's why they killed so many of them in the past, because they knew what a danger they were."

"Right. You don't necessarily need to kill an Oracle for the ritual, just need a whole lot of her blood to do it. The same blood sacrifice is needed for the ritual to bring these guys back, so you guess that's what whoever took Rachel's up to."

"Well, yeah, we figured they were going to kill her," Nico snapped, frustration beginning to creep through him. "Does that book of yours tell us where they're going to do the damn ritual?"

Malcolm turned a few pages, skimming the text faster than a kid with dyslexia should be able to, and then shook his head. "No, and the Norse don't technically have a stronghold in the area any more since their territory was swallowed up when they disappeared. They won't be in Manhattan or Staten Island, since that's Greek territory, but there are plenty of unclaimed areas in the other boroughs where they might go..."

From in the kitchen, Nico heard Percy mutter, "I swear I've seen this before..." as he poured over a sketch but he didn't ask about it, his attention caught instead by Malcolm's movements.

Malcolm reached for a large scroll and unrolled it, spreading it over the other documents on the table. Nico got up and leaned over the table to look at map, drumming his fingers impatiently on the edge of it.

"Brooklyn and Queens are out because that belongs to the Egyptians. They're too weak right now to make a move against the Greeks, so they wouldn't house any Norse supporters," the son of Athena continued. "The Bronx is probably where we'll want to focus our attention. Even though there's a strong Greek presence there, it hasn't been claimed by us and there are quite a few other mythologies there."

"That's as far as you can narrow it down to? An entire _borough_?" Nico demanded. "Do you know how many people _live_in the Bronx?"

"Well, according to the last census — "

Nico slammed his fist on the table, his patience at its end. "I don't want the answer to that! I want to know where Rachel is!"

"Malcolm, I think — " Percy began.

"I don't know!" Malcolm shouted back, cheeks flushing angrily. "Summoning the Norse back is going to bring them a lot of attention so they might look somewhere less populated but this is all I have to go on! I don't know who took her, I don't know where they are or why you can't find her or _anything_! I need more time if you want something definite!"

"We don't have the time! They're going to kill Rachel tonight! And if she dies, you're going to - "

Percy was suddenly standing next Nico and he jammed his elbow into his side with enough force to cut him off, but not hurt him too badly. Nico gasped, winded, and glared at the older boy.

"Threatening the people trying to help you isn't a good idea, Nico," Percy said, green eyes hard. "Besides, if you two would let me talk, I'd be able to tell you that I think I figured out where they took Rachel."

"What?" Nico and Malcolm said at the same time, surprised. Out of the three of them, Percy was the least likely one to solve a mythological mystery. True, Percy had gotten much better at observation since he was a teenager, but Annabeth was usually the one that who spotted clues and made connections before anyone else even noticed there was a connection to be had.

Percy tossed Rachel's notebook on the table, where it had been turned to a page with a sketch of a spiral staircase in a dilapidated building on it. Nico searched out Rachel's signature and the date on the sketch, noting that she'd created it just a few days ago. She couldn't have drawn it from life then, since they hadn't gone anywhere like this recently, let alone in the last month.

"That's the staircase in one of the abandoned buildings on North Brother Island in the East River. It hasn't been inhabited for decades and everything's falling apart or being overrun by weeds. It's hard to get to, but not impossible and if I wanted to do some crazy ritual, it'd probably be one of the places I'd pick. It's super creepy."

"I... well, I suppose..." Malcolm hastily consulted the maps. "North Brother Island is an unclaimed territory, as are several of the other islands in the area, probably because they're smack right in Poseidon's territory, but... "

"But what?"

"No offense Percy, but how did you recognize that staircase?"

In spite of the serious circumstances, the question caused Percy to blush and he cleared his throat. "Uh, I took Annabeth out there once. On a date. You know how she likes buildings and, uh, stuff, so... "

"You studied some staircases?" Malcolm asked dryly. "Hope they were more fascinating than the maps."

Percy's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. Clearly Nico was missing out on some kind of innuendo-laden in-joke, but he was in no mood to ask about it now.

"You're absolutely sure, Percy?" he asked instead, and the other man nodded. "All right. IM me know if you find anything else, Malcolm. I'll go check out North Brother Island and — "

"You mean _we'll_go check it out," Percy interrupted. "If it turns out Rachel's there, you won't have time to report back to us and you won't want to. Plus, I'll probably have to save your skinny ass again from whatever mountain trolls they have guarding the island."

"Whatever," Nico said, grabbing Percy's elbow. He hoped the son of Poseidon didn't notice how hard his hands were trembling. "Just try not to throw up when we get there, hero."

He glanced at the map on the table once last time, noting North Brother's position, and focused his energy. Shadow traveling was easier when he had been somewhere before, but it certainly wasn't impossible. He just had to imagine the coordinates and the shadows would do the rest. Percy tensed as the shadows wrapped around them and they were no longer in his apartment, hurtling along in the darkness to a forgotten island and then...

_Finally_.

He felt Rachel's presence.

And she was dying.


	15. Bloodletting

**Author's notes:** Thank you so much for your reviews last chapter! I hope you find this one just as satisfying.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Bloodletting**

The sickly smell of must and rot hit Rachel's nose as soon as she was dragged from the room, Jake's meaty fingers wrapped around her upper arm and he pulled her along a dark hallway. The only light came from the room behind them and the hallway grew dimmer and more dank as they walked.

Even though the furnishings in the room she'd been held had been a little old, Rachel had assumed they had been holding her at one of their homes. But wherever they were, it appeared that room was the only somewhat nice spot left; from what she could tell, everything else about this place was falling apart. Were they in one of the condemned warehouses near the docks?

"Shit!" Liv squeaked as stumbled over a piece of concrete in the dark. Rachel heard a clatter of metal on stone; she must've dropped that ugly dagger. "Ugh, why couldn't we have done this someplace civilized again?"

"Summonin' gods isn't exactly somethin' you do in a crowded place," Kate snapped, bending to pick the dagger up. "And please be more careful with the priceless ritualistic artifacts."

Liv huffed. "Whatever. You hold it now, witch."

Kate's form tensed in the darkness, but she kept walking and said nothing.

The hallway was getting lighter again and soon a crumbling, spiral staircase became visible in the gloom, natural moonlight filtering in from above. Eric pulled out his cell phone and flicked on the flashlight app to illuminate the staircase as he began to climb. Kate and Liv followed him, each one at a time, walking slowly and carefully up it.

The staircase couldn't hold all of their weight at once, Rachel realized, and that meant they would let her walk up by herself. Adrenaline began to flow through her, giving her weakened body strength again. She was beginning to recover from the possession, but she had just enough energy to break away and run —

Jake pressed himself up behind her. "Now, you're going to be a good girl and walk up these stairs and stop at the first landing. No running, otherwise I'm going to break your legs. You got that?"

Rachel nodded furiously and he shoved her forward. Her legs wobbled underneath and she climbed, listening to the creaks and groans of the rusted metal beneath her. The staircase rocked with each step, shaking dust from the levels above, and twice Rachel almost lost her balance and fell.

She made it to the first landing after a few minutes, stepping into what must've been a grand entrance hall at some point in time, when the paint wasn't peeling and sections of the ceiling hadn't fallen in. There was still furniture and what looked like a old hospital equipment in place, but it was all covered in dust, rust and was falling apart with age. Glass from broken windows littered the floor and tree was growing through one of the window frames. They certainly weren't in a warehouse of any sort.

As soon as she set foot on what she hoped was steadier ground, Kate was by her side, grabbing her bound hands and pressing the tip of the dagger into the middle of her back. Liv and Eric were nowhere in sight in the large hall, although their light from their flashlights bounced back from one of the adjoining hallways.

"I've got her now," Kate called down the stairs to Jake. "But I need ya to get the spell scroll. Her highness Liv forgot it and I can't do shit without it."

Jake's cursed echoed downstairs. "What am I, an errand boy?"

"Just do it! We don't have much time."

He grumbled one more time and then she heard his footsteps walking back toward the holding room. Kate spun Rachel around and they followed the other two.

"I can't believe you," Rachel said quietly, glaring at the green haired girl. "Nico _trusted_ you. _I_trusted you, and you were working for them the entire time?"

Kate said nothing for a long moment and then, she leaned in close. "If I can get ya out of this alive, I will. My coven's in debt to Liv's mother, and I was not aware you would be involved in this until tonight."

How convenient for Kate, Rachel thought bitterly, unable and unwilling to believe her.

"And this has absolutely nothing to do with a jealous hissy fit over Nico, huh?"

Kate leveled a incredulous stare at her. "Please. If I wanted to claim Nico for myself, I could do it _without_killing you. I am a servant to the Underworld, and the last thing I would do is hurt him."

"You spelled this place so he can't find me!" Rachel exclaimed, her voice echoing.

Kate dug the point of the dagger into her back. "Be quiet, will ya? I have to do what Liv tells me to do, otherwise she has the right to kill _me_and I'm not much use to ya dead, am I?"

Rachel didn't want to believe what Kate was saying, but at this stage, why would she lie? Kate should be gloating like the other three, not looking drawn and concerned. Besides, Rachel was helpless and alone, and Kate's offer to help would only complicate things for her with the other three, so why would she bother if she wasn't sincere? To mock her or be unnecessarily cruel by giving her false hope?

"Do... " she swallowed her doubts. "Do you have a plan, then?"

"Somethin' of the sort," Kate replied with a strained smile. "You have to understand, though. I've been compelled to complete the ritual, and it needs your blood for that. Not much, necessarily, but... the more hurt you are, the easier it will be for Nico to find you. The spell can't hide death."

Rachel's stomach lurched. "You... you want me to get hurt on purpose? Hurt enough to risk _dying_?"

"What part of you're gonna die otherwise, don't ya understand?" Kate snapped, turning her down another hallway. Bright light flooded out of a set of open doors at the end, and Rachel's mouth went dry. "Listen to me. Once you've been injured, you're going to have a very small opportunity to run, and you'll have to take it. There's a stage door to your left that leads you outside. Nico should have no trouble findin' you once you cross the threshold and those idiots will be too caught up waiting for their gods to arrive."

Rachel knew she didn't have many other choices. And while she didn't completely trust Kate, her only other option — waiting for some good fortune to befall her or for the opportune moment — would probably end up getting her killed. She had to trust her instincts, and her instincts were, once again, screaming for her to believe Kate.

As they reached the edge of the hallway, she nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay _what_?" Jake's voice demanded suddenly from behind him. Rachel jumped, having not heard him approach and hoped that he hadn't heard much else of what they were saying.

"I was tellin' her how I was going to take good care of her boyfriend when she's dead," Kate said quickly, sneering at her. "She just didn't want to hear anymore from me."

Jake turned his suspicious gaze on her, and Rachel didn't have to try hard to look angry and desperate to convince him. He seemed satisfied and held up a battered old scroll. "This what you needed?"

Kate nodded. "Keep hold of it, will ya?"

She didn't wait for his answer, pushing Rachel forward into the lit room.

It was an abandoned auditorium, in just as bad shape of as the rest of the building. The seats were torn up and mouldering, some of them looking like they'd been wrenched out of their bolts and tossed across the room. Part of the ceiling had fallen in, revealing a dark sky above, and the light was being provided by dozens and dozens of black candles on the stage.

Even though it was clearly rotting and sagging, stage was the only part of the auditorium that was intact. Liv and Eric had stopped in front of it, watching the rest of the group approach. Eric had a hungry look on his face and Rachel shivered as Kate led her past them, toward the stage's steps.

One of them asked Kate a question, but Rachel could barely hear her response over the frantic pounding of her own heart. Even though she knew she might have a way out of this, she couldn't fight the terror welling inside her. If this didn't work...

Kate wove a path through the candles toward the middle of the stage where she had drawn a giant rune circle in a sticky brown substance — blood, Rachel realized with a shudder.

"In the circle now," Kate said, nudging her forward.

Rachel's heels dug into the surface of the stage, resisting, knowing that once that line was crossed, there was no going back. But another shove from Kate and she was over the line.

She felt something (_magic_) overtake her body as soon as she stepped in the circle, and her legs propelled her forward against her will to the middle of the circle. She dropped to her knees, her limbs as heavy as lead, and completely unable to move.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked as Kate slid the dagger between Rachel's bound hands and cut the ropes free. Rachel winced as the blood rushed back into her fingers and they swung around to her front.

"Once she's in the circle, she can't go anywhere until the spell is complete," Kate replied. "Now shut up, and let me do my job."

One of the trio muttered something in dissent, but obviously didn't want to test Kate's temper too badly and risk the success of the ritual. Rachel turned her head to look them, and Eric met her gaze, the candlelight stretching his triumphant smirk into a shadowed, demonic grin.

"We'll be sure to tell your daddy dearest that you died for the cause. I'm sure he'll enjoy that," he called, stepping as close to the stage as he dared. "Got any last words, Rachel Elizabeth Dare?"

"Yeah," she rasped, fury flooding her voice. "You three are dead. _Dead_."

The flames on the candles stirred restlessly, as if blown about by sudden gust of wind, but Rachel had no idea if her declaration had caused that or a breeze from the exposed roof. It was still enough for Eric to remember what had happened a few minutes ago with the Oracle, and he stepped back, eyeing her like a wild animal.

Rachel's attention was drawn away by a loud _thump!_as Kate set an enormous stone basin in front of her. It was almost as tall as she was on her knees like this. Rachel had never seen an artifact so old outside of a museum, even in the Camp Half Blood storage, and she could feel the ancient power radiating from it. She could make out intricate carvings on the sides of the basin, each one appearing to depict a different act of mortal cruelty in the world.

This wasn't the first time an Oracle's blood had been spilled in that basin, she realized with horror. Rachel had believed she was special, but she was nothing but a long-standing pawn in a millennia long war game.

Kate stepped in front of her, clearing her throat as she unrolled the scroll. Her eyes met Rachel's for a moment, regret shimmering in them, and then she began to chant in ancient Greek.

The candles flickered and dimmed, elongating the shadows the five of them the crumbling walls, and a true wind stirred as Kate spoke. Rachel's skin prickled, and she felt like her body was being compressed and squeezed as the pressure in the room changed. She couldn't help her wince when her ears popped.

After no time at all, Kate snapped the scroll shut and then bent down, grabbing Rachel's arms and holding them over the basin. She wanted — no, needed — to pull free and fight Kate off, but the magic wasn't letting her and Rachel watched in horror as the other girl lifted the dagger above her head, the silver blade glittering sinisterly in the candlelight.

"To the gods of the North, I offer the blood of the Oracle," Kate intoned, pressing the blade to her wrist. "To open the road once more!"

Kate sliced down her arm so quick that Rachel didn't even feel it — at first. She cried out in agony as white hot pain sizzled up her arms, tears springing to her eyes as blood poured from her veins, dribbling, into the bottom of the basin's bowl. Kate squeezed her arm, forcing the blood to move faster and the basin began to glow a wicked, sickly green color as the blood pooled.

"That won't be enough," Kate murmured, and Rachel screamed again as she sliced her other wrist too.

Her hands twitched and curled under Kate's grip, spasming out of control as blood seeped out of her body in a hot, liquid pain. Rachel was in complete agony and her veins throbbed her heart pumped, pumped, _pumped_ more blood to the open wounds. Kate must've gotten an artery and _oh gods_, there was so much blood...

"Look!" Liv shouted, her voice distant to Rachel's eyes. "I think I see something up there!"

Weakly, Rachel met Kate's gaze and the other girl nodded subtly, although she didn't loosen her grip on Rachel's arms. Rachel understood. She had to make her escape look real... if she could.

Rachel braced herself and wrapped her spasming fingers around Kate's forearms, grabbing her and yanking her forward. She bent her body enough so Kate went toppling over her head instead of landing on top of her and Kate made a grab for her, her hands twisting in Rachel's hair, but she lashed out with her feet, catching the other girl in the side. Rachel heard something snap and Kate cried out, going limp.

The other three were shouting, trying to get up on the stage as Rachel struggled to her feet, already feeling woozy and light headed from the blood loss. She knew she had to run, but first...

She shoved her hip into the glowing basin and knocked it on its side, spilling the liquid contents on to the grimy floor.

"You whore!" Eric shouted, and Rachel _ran_, knocking over candles as she sprinted out of the circle, hoping she hadn't wasted what precious time she had left.

She burst through the door Kate had mentioned, smearing blood on the handle, and gasped as the cool night air flooded her lungs. She ran toward a wooded area, past the ghostly outline of other abandoned buildings the darkness, and tried not trip over broken concrete and other hidden obstacles.

Her wrists were burning, blood dripping down her arms and splattering on her clothes, and she felt faint, but she had to keep running, had to get to —

An unearthly shriek split the air and seconds later, Rachel screamed as sharp talons dug into her back, a fresh wave of agony breaking over her. She landed on her side, curling into herself, her body wracked with pain and knew she had no more strength left within her.

Her heart stopped when a pair of clawed feet landed near her head. She glanced up, trembling from exhaustion, and stared into the red eyes of the same demon that had appeared at her bedroom window weeks ago.

"Oh gods," Rachel whispered, trying to crawl away from it. Each drag of her injuries against the ground was like flames leaping up her back and still there was _more blood_...

_Please_, she prayed, _please let it be quick_.

"You stupid bitch."

Jake appeared beside the monster, panting and maniac with rage. He pushed forward and something in his hand flashed in the moonlight — the knife.

"Did you really think you'd get away? You've fucked up everything and now — " he said, bending down beside her. His eyes were crazed, pupils blown wide and darting back and forth. "Now you're really going to get it. I'm going to slit your pretty fucking throat and when I've got all the blood we need, my friend over here and all the beasties in the woods are going make a snack of your corpse."

The monster shrieked, delighted, and Jake moved in —

Suddenly, the ground rumbled and the sliver of earth between them split open as a skeletal hand shot upward, grabbing Jake's wrist. He dropped the knife in shock and tried to claw it off, but then another hand was on him... and another...

"What the fuck!" Jake screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. The veins popped in his forehead as he struggled to free himself. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Not me," Rachel whispered, turning her head as two figures materialized behind her. Her vision was dimming, but she'd know the tallest man anywhere.

"_Nico_."

* * *

Five seconds.

That was all the time Percy had to take in the scene in front of him before a hideous bat monster was on him and trying to bury its claws in his skull. But that was enough time to know the sight of Rachel's pale and blood spattered body was going to haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

He threw himself to the ground to avoid the monster, bashing his elbow against a stone, and rolled to his feet, uncapping Riptide. The monster dug its claws into the ground, swinging itself around to face, and shrieked before it charged.

He was sure that this monster would be a more formidable opponent higher in the air, but low to the ground like this, it was clumsy, unsure and an easy target. Percy knew it'd try to get higher and sure enough, it changed its trajectory upwards right before it could strike a blow, hoping it would catch him off guard.

It didn't, and Percy sank Riptide into the creature's chest with a sickening squelch. It let out a surprised squawk before turning into dust.

"Too easy," Percy murmured, sliding Riptide into the loop on his pants before hurrying over toward Rachel.

Four skeleton soldiers had joined them in the time it took Percy to dispatch the monster, and had surrounded and dragged a bulky man away from Rachel's body. Nico was bent over her, desperately trying to wrap her bloody arms with scraps of fabric from his T-shirt and whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm _so_sorry," to her over and over again.

Rachel's face was ghostly pale, but she was still breathing and alert, although Percy didn't know how much longer that would last. The cuts are her arms were very deep and Nico's bandages were already soaked. If they didn't — if they had been too late —

No. He wasn't going to think that. Not about Rachel.

"Nico," Percy said, grabbing his shoulder. "We need to get her to a hospital. Right now. There might be more of those things on the island."

Nico nodded, his face calm, but Percy noticed his hands were shaking. He didn't want to know what the other boy was seeing with Rachel's life's aura. "Rachel, I'm going to have to pick you up. Is that okay?"

"Yes," Rachel replied, her voice weaker than Percy'd ever heard it. "Hurry, please."

Percy took a step back as Nico slid his arms under Rachel and hefted her into his arms. Her agonized cry cut through him and... _gods_, her back! What had they done to her?

"It'll be all right, Rachel," Percy said, reaching for her hand. "Just hang in there for a little — "

"She's gonna die, you freaks! Say your goodbyes now!"

Nico stiffened and his eyes snapped over to the man his skeleton soldiers had captured. Percy knew that look on Nico's face and it wasn't good sign for any of them. If Nico lost control of powers, Rachel would die for sure.

"I've got this."

Percy strode over to the skeletons, who parted for him, and glared down at the mortal. He looked vaguely familiar, but he wasn't anyone Percy encountered in his day-to-day life.

"Son of Poseidon, right?" the mortal asked, grinning maniacally. "You're the one with the hot blonde piece of ass — "

_Crack!_

Percy's fist connected with the mortal's jaw and he went down, groaning. He normally wasn't the type to delight in causing other people pain, but if anyone deserved a dislocated jaw, this bastard did.

The skeletons formed a tight circle around the mortal again as Percy turned and hurried back to Nico and Rachel. Rachel was unconscious now and Nico was trembling with barely suppressed emotion. He grabbed on to Nico's jacket and met the younger man's hardened, hateful gaze, knowing there was no way the son of Hades was going to let the mortal get away with a punch to jaw.

"Do it," Percy said. "And let's get the hell out of here."

Nico nodded and glanced at his soldiers. "He's all yours. Do with him what you will."

Percy turned away as the skeletons closed in, but he needn't have bothered. In the next instant, the darkness wrapped around them and they were gone, leaving the mortal to his fate. **  
**


	16. Complications

**Author's notes: **Meant to have this update earlier, but life got in the way, as usual. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

* * *

**Chapter 16: Complications**

_She's alive, you can feel her, she's alive, she's going to be okay, she's _—

"I'm going to need your shirt and jacket, son."

Nico blinked, startled, and turned to look at the man in the dark suit standing next to him, his eyes falling to his hip where a shiny gold badge rested. He'd been so focused on the steadily strengthening feeling of Rachel's energy, he'd forgotten the detective was there.

"Sorry," he rasped, shaking his head. "What?"

"Your clothes," the detective said again, waving his notebook up-and-down. "For evidence."

Nico glanced down. Dark brown blotches of Rachel's blood stained the ragged edges where he had ripped his shirt for bandages. His stomach rolled; he had forgotten the blood was there too. If he hadn't already vomited before, when he'd been washing it off his hands and arms earlier in the pristine hospital sink, he probably would've done so now.

"O-oh," he said. "Yeah. That's fine."

"Come on. We'll get you some cleaner clothes."

Nico nodded and got to his feet, following the detective down the hall. Percy, who was talking to a different detective, met his gaze and nodded at him reassuringly. _It was going to be okay_, Percy's steady stare said. _Just do what they tell you and it'll be fine_.

The problem with showing up in a hospital emergency room with a blood covered woman is that it tends to attract a lot of attention. Especially if that woman happens to be the daughter of the richest man in Manhattan.

He and Percy'd barely had time to throw together a story about Rachel's injuries before the police arrived to interview them. Not that it'd matter in the end — the Mist would certainly take care of any holes they missed or erase the investigation entirely. If it hadn't been for the gashes on her back, Rachel's injuries could have easily been looked self-inflicted. Nico was sure that was what her captors would have wanted it to look like when her body was found after they were through with her.

"In here," the detective indicated an empty room and handed him a pile of scrubs along with a brown paper bag. "Take off everything but your underwear and put the clothes in the bag. I'll be checking the room after you leave, so don't think about getting rid of anything."

Nico nodded and closed the door, leaving the light off as he stripped. It was comforting to be in darkness again after spending the last hour under the glaring fluorescents lights of Mount Sinai's sterile white waiting room. It allowed him to have a moment to himself without anyone watching. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and reaching out with his senses to Rachel again.

"She's alive," Nico murmured, clutching the scrub tight in his hands. The mantra was one of the few things that was keeping him mostly calm. "She's alive, and that's all that matters."

Even an hour ago, that hadn't been a sure thing.

For one terrifying moment after they'd arrived at Mount Sinai, Nico had been sure that Rachel was gone. Her skin had been so pale, almost blue tinged, and her breath had been so shallow, her chest barely moved at all. He nearly hadn't let her go when the hospital staff tried to get her on a gurney so they could take care of her. It had taken Apollo's sudden appearance and his reassuring hand on Nico's shoulder as he whispered, "I've got this, she's going to make it," to finally let her out of his arms and sight.

And the god had lived up to his word. So far.

Rachel's life force, just a few rooms away in the operating theater, was still wickedly weak, but it was slowly getting stronger as the minutes dragged by.

Rachel was going to be okay.

No thanks to him.

He yanked the scrub top over his head furiously, and then pulled on the bottoms. The detective hadn't said anything about his motorcycle boots, so he left those on. He probably looked ridiculous like that, but he had more pressing concerns.

"Here," Nico said, handing the bag with his clothes to the detective as he left the room. "Do you need anything else?"

"Not right now, Mr. di Angelo. We'll probably need to speak with you again once Miss Dare wakes up, however," the older man said. Nico couldn't read his expression and wondered what he thought of the entire situation. Did the detective think he was responsible? "Thank you for your cooperation."

"You're welcome," Nico replied, and he walked back to the waiting room.

The second detective had disappeared, apparently satisfied with Percy's statement, and the son of Poseidon handed him a cup of coffee before he sat down.

"Nurses said she should be out of surgery soon," Percy said. "They're not giving out much more information than that since we're not family."

"She's going to be fine," Nico said, taking a sip of coffee. He didn't flinch when it burned his tongue. "She didn't have any internal injuries. Just that nicked artery."

Percy shuddered. "When I find out who did this..."

Nico glowered, remembering the horrible man and the monster they'd found near Rachel. They couldn't have been working alone and he was going to make the others pay. "You'll have to get behind me first."

"Or me."

Both men turned toward the operating room doors where Apollo was standing in the hallway, dressed in green scrubs and looking far too put together for having just gotten out of surgery. His brow was furrowed and from the way his eyes focused on him, Nico didn't think all that anger was directed at the people who attacked Rachel.

"Lord Apollo," Percy said, shooting to his feet. Nico stayed where he was, too exhausted to care about offending some prissy god. "How is she?"

"Unconscious, but well enough under the circumstances," Apollo replied, walking closer. "She'd lost a little more than 30 percent of her total blood volume by the time you got her here, so it was a close call. A very close call. I managed to heal some of the wounds on her back before the mortals took close notice of them, but her wrists required quite a lot stitches. Additionally, she had a slight concussion and some minor abrasions. She'll be out for a few hours while the blood transfusion takes place."

Nico swallowed the rage that broiled in his stomach as Apollo listed Rachel's injuries. Now was neither the time or place to lose control of his anger. He had to stay calm and keep his powers in check. He was most dangerous in areas like hospitals, where the line between life and death was unusually thin.

"Now," Apollo continued, his fierce blue eyes zeroing in on Nico. "Which one of you can explain how she managed to get in this condition in the first place?"

Shit, Apollo looked angry enough to burn him to a crisp. Nico didn't blame him, though, not entirely. He'd promised to protect Rachel and he'd failed miserably, just like he thought he'd would. He'd gotten distracted and lazy and — and —

"I don't know," he said quietly, staring at his boots. "I left to go to pick up some research from Athena's Library. She must've left right after I did. I found a note that said she went to visit you and I don't know why she did it. Did she make it to your temple at least?"

Apollo grunted. "She did."

The god didn't elaborate further. Nico inferred that what had happened at the temple was between Apollo and Rachel, but it wasn't hard to read between the lines and Apollo's menacing stare. Whatever business Rachel'd had with her patron, it'd been because of Nico.

"So she must've gotten snatched at some point on the way back," Nico pressed forward, not intimidated. "By the time I got out, she was gone and I couldn't feel her presence until later, when she was... was... "

Nico's voice caught and thankfully, Percy picked it up from there. "Someone was trying to summon the Norse gods back to Earth. At least, that's what Malcolm thinks was happening. Nico took care of at least one of them when we found her, but I don't know if he was working alone. Rachel will know when she wakes up."

Apollo swore colorfully in Ancient Greek, but he didn't look surprised. In fact, he looked more annoyed than anything else.

"Do you know if the ritual was successful?"

Nico shook his head as Percy shrugged and said, "Sorry. We were more worried about keeping her alive than anything else."

"Fantastic," Apollo snorted, running a hand through his hair. It was a decidedly uncharacteristic expression of frustration for a god that was usually as laid back as Apollo. "Just fucking fantastic. I should've known it was the Norse. They've always been obsessed with the Oracle. The council is going to _love_this..."

Considering its past transgressions against his family, Nico didn't care much about the council's opinion. Plus, he had other concerns.

"Will they come after Rachel again?" Nico asked, even though he was sure he already knew what the god's answer would be. "Or are they finished with her?"

"Depends on if they were successful or not. And since we won't know that until Rachel wakes up, I don't have an answer for you," Apollo replied shortly. "However, if the road between worlds has been reopened, they'll have no need for her anymore and she can go about her normal life again. If not... well, she won't be in any _immediate_danger, at least."

"That's always a reassuring answer," Percy muttered.

Apollo scowled at the two of them, but before he could reprimand them again, the doors on the opposite end of the hall slammed open and a man's loud, heated voice echoed against the walls, carrying down toward them.

"I don't donate millions to you people so I can be questioned by the police and treated like a criminal! Where is my daughter? I want to see her right now, policies be damned!"

"Warren, calm down — "

"This is unacceptable, Olivia! Absolutely unacceptable!"

Nico stiffened. In all the excitement, he'd forgotten that he and Percy weren't the only ones who would be affected or care about by Rachel's hospitalization. Rachel and her parents might not be on the best terms, but they still cared about her.

He leaned around Percy, who was doing his best not to make any sudden movements now that the Dares were here. They must've been called away from the one night they had at home because Nico knew that the Dares would never go out in public looking as they did now.

Mr. Dare was wearing jeans and a crumpled, white button up shirt and Mrs. Dare, who Nico had only seen in photographs in Rachel's apartment, had on sweatpants and a hoodie, as if she had been interrupted in the middle of her evening exercise routine. Mrs. Dare was a tall, statuesque blonde — absolutely everything Rachel wasn't — but she had the same face as her daughter, although it was a bit sharper and colder. Although she had a soothing hand on Mr. Dare's arm, she was glaring daggers at the hapless hospital director babbling apologies at them all the same.

Apollo, ever the professional, did not seem phased by this and cleared his throat, striding toward the two. Nico watched as his body and face rippled into an older, more distinguished form with cropped hair. Apparently Apollo realized that the Dares would never accept a Doogie Howser look-a-like being in charge of their daughter's well being.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dare, I'm your daughter's doctor. I was just telling the young men who brought her in — "

"Oh no," Percy said, slumping down in his seat and blocking his face with his hand as Mr. Dare bristled. "Here we go."

"Young men? What do you... " Mr. Dare trailed off as he looked around Apollo and noticed the two of demigods sitting along the wall. Percy waved at him weakly, but his eyes skipped over him and landed on Nico. "YOU!"

Mr. Dare shoved past Apollo and before Nico quite knew what was happening, the older man had yanked him out of his seat and slammed him against the wall. It didn't hurt much, but it certainly shocked him. He hadn't expected Mr. Dare to be so strong.

"Warren, what are you doing?" Mrs. Dare shouted, horrified by her husband's behavior, but he ignored her.

"What did you do to my daughter, you low class piece shit!"

"I didn't do anything!" Nico protested. "I would never hurt Rachel!"

Mr. Dare's grip tightened on the collar of Nico's scrub top and he slammed him into the wall again. Nico heard Apollo and Percy shouting at Mr. Dare to stop, and Mrs. Dare yelling for them to do something right this instant —

"Don't lie to me! You had something to do with this, I know it!" Mr. Dare snarled. "Tell me what you did to her or I'll gut you myself!"

"I swear on my mother's life, I didn't touch Rachel!"

"Mr. Dare, please put Nico down — "

The temperature in the room dropped suddenly and a shiver went up Nico's spine as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Oh _no_, this could not be good.

"Warren," Hades said, putting a large, pale hand on top of Mr. Dare's fist. "I suggest you take a step back and stop trying to strangle my son. I'm rather attached to this one."

Mr. Dare's grip slackened the instant he heard Hades's voice and he let go, taking several steps back and suddenly looking rather unnerved. Mrs. Dare rushed to his side, taking his arms and staring at Hades with wide eyes.

Nico stared at his father unabashedly. Hades looked fairly normal, a dark gray suit and black tie replacing his usual robes, but he radiated cold, unnatural power. Why had he come to Nico's aid? Did his father believe he couldn't handle a _mortal_after his slip-up today?

"Lord Hades," Mr. Daresaid, brushing his hands on his pants. "My apologies, I... ah, I didn't realize... wait, your... son?"

_What_?

Nico glanced between his father and Mr. Dare, willing his brain not to process all of this as fast as possible. Did Mr. Dare know his father? As in actually _know_ him and not as some mortal disguise? _How_?

"Nico is one of my demigod offspring," Hades replied, glancing at Nico ruefully. "I'm sure my brother Zeus might have mentioned demigods in passing during your dealings, as he does have quite a few of them running around."

"Well, yes, but... " Mr. Dare shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. He wasn't someone who was surprised easily and this, plus Rachel's condition, had rattled him. "I didn't think... I'm usually quite good at spotting demigods."

"Hold the fucking phone," Percy interrupted, absolutely indignant "You know about demigods? You've _always_known about us?"

Nico didn't think Mr. Dare's eyebrows could rise any higher into his hairline than they already were, and he gaped at the son of Poseidon.

"You too?!"

"Well," Mrs. Dare said quietly. "That certainly explains why Mr. Jackson has quite the streak of destruction, doesn't it, dear?"

"Of course you'd be here, nephew," Hades said snidely, glaring at Percy. "Can't have a crisis without you getting involved."

"Well, he _is_the greatest hero of his age," Poseidon said, appearing in the chair beside Percy and causing his son to jump in surprise. Nico almost had a heart attack himself. "Your ass must clearly still be smarting from the last time he kicked it, brother."

Hades opened his mouth to retort but Apollo, back to his younger form, stepped between them, angry and red faced.

"Oh no," the sun god said. "You are not having a council meeting in my hospital! There are sick and injured people here, and you lot like to cause trouble trouble. This is so not cool!"

"Your father already called the meeting," Poseidon replied, sounding wholly unconcerned that ten other Olympians would be showing up in moment. "'Find Apollo and wait for me there,' he said. 'Important business to discuss and I'm a paranoid ass,' he said."

"In this case, at least, it appears our brother's paranoia has been justified," Hades replied, tilting his head in the direction of the operating room where Rachel was. "I, for one, am as shocked as you are."

Thunder rumbled loudly overhead. The two older gods rolled their eyes and Apollo glared at the ceiling. "Fine. There's a conference room in the administrative wing that should be suited to our needs. But the first one of you who gets out of hand and endangers the mortals here will face my wrath."

"Don't have to warn me twice," Poseidon said, cuffing Percy on the shoulder before rising to his feet. "I still haven't gotten your last scolding sonnet out of my head and it's been 400 years."

Apollo's pursed his lips, his eyes glowing in warning, but wisely decided to take his own advice and not get out of hand. He popped out of existence with a flash and the sound of an angry guitar riff.

"Drama queen," Poseidon muttered. He winked at Percy and cuffed him on the shoulder. "Good job, my boy. See you around."

"Yeah, okay, cool?" Percy replied, confused and not in the least prepared to have a conversation with his father.

Poseidon's exit was only slightly less dramatic than Apollo's. Nico expected his father to follow the other two without another word with his own flashy exit.

Hades, however, turned to him and said, "I expect to talk to you after this ridiculous meeting is finished. It would be unwise to leave."

Nico gulped at the implied threat in his father's statement and felt the usual bit of shame and anger curl up in his stomach at being addressed in such a way.

"Yes, sir," he said, hoping he didn't sound sullen.

Hades nodded stiffly at him and stepped back, fading into the shadows and disappearing. Immediately after he was gone, Nico's knees buckled and he slid down the wall until his ass hit the floor. Dealing with three Olympians in the course of five minutes was beyond stressful and intimidating, and, of course, the last thing Nico needed tonight.

"Holy shit," he rasped, glancing at Percy. "What just happened?"

The other man shrugged, looking just as wrung out as Nico was. Mr. Dare cleared his throat suddenly, drawing both their attention to him. There was no dislike on Rachel's father face any more and he, too, appeared to have been cowed by the appearance of the gods. He even looked a bit more respectful of Nico and Percy, even if obviously pained him to do so.

"I apologize for my behavior. The news about Rachel's injuries were obviously overwhelming and I overreacted," Mr. Dare said, and Nico could practically hear Percy's jaw dropping to the floor. Mr. Dare never apologized. "Olivia and I would like some answers, particularly what Rachel has done to become involved with the Olympians."

Nico and Percy looked at each other. They both knew it wasn't really their place to tell Rachel's secret, but in this case, it would probably be all right. Her parents already knew the most sensitive information, that Mount Olympus existed in modern day New York, and were apparently on first name basis with Nico's _dad_too. He really needed an explanation for that one.

Percy nodded at him and Nico turned back to the Dares. He ran a hand over his face and sighed.

"How much do you know about the Oracle of Delphi?"

* * *

**Next time on _Death's Dare_:** Rachel wakes up and Warren Dare's has some explaining to do.


	17. Aftermath

**Author's notes: **Happy New Year!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Aftermath**

"Oh, good. You're awake."

Rachel blinked at the fuzzy, golden blob hovering over her, idly wondering if the Underworld was supposed to be so bright and warm. She'd gotten the impression that it was a dark, dreary place with wailing and decidedly less golden fuzzy things. Maybe the white light at the end of the tunnel had decided to wait for her?

After all, she _was_dead... wasn't she?

Her eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds each, but she blinked one more time and her vision came back into focus. Apollo was leaning over her, a stethoscope around his neck and relieved expression on his face. Her eyes darted around, catching glimpses of the various monitors floating beside her, the plastic tubes of IVs attached her arms, and a thin blue hospital blanket she covering her, before settling back on the handsome god.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn't dead. Thank the gods.

"Rachel," Apollo said. "Can you hear me?'

"Yes," Rachel replied, opening her eyes. Her throat felt like it had been ravaged by steel wool, and her voice came out deep and rough. "What... what happened?"

Apollo smiled gently. "I was going to ask you that very question. But that can wait a little longer, I suppose. I need to check some of your vitals, if that's all right?"

She nodded and tried to push herself upright. As soon as her back slid against the mattress, fiery pain shot through her and Rachel let out a whimper. Apollo put a steady hand on her shoulder, holding her in place, and then pressed the remote control for the bed into her hands. Rachel glanced down and noticed the bandages and gauze that laced up her forearms for the first time. She froze, surprised.

"Your pain medication is wearing off, so you'll need to be a bit more careful from now on," Apollo said, pressing a button to increase the bed's incline. "You're also a bit anemic, but that shouldn't last too long once the effects of the transfusion wear off and we get some more iron in your system. You'll be tired and possibly run a bit of a fever, and... "

The god prattled on, but Rachel had tuned him out, staring at her arms. She poked at the bandages on her right arm and pulled them down hesitantly, revealing a long row of dark stitches holding together angry, oozing red flesh. For a moment, Rachel couldn't remember how her arms had gotten cut so badly. And then...

She hurriedly tugged the dressing back up her arm, but the damage was already done. She could hear one of the monitors responding to the rapid increase of her heartbeat and, oh gods, she couldn't breathe, why couldn't she _breathe_—

"They got me," she wheezed, flailing and trying to push aside her blankets in a panic. "They got me!"

"Rachel! Rachel, I need you to look at me." Apollo touched her chin, tilting her gaze in his direction. "Be calm. I'm here, and you're safe. I promise."

Rachel nodded, understanding, but she couldn't stop the unrelenting fear coursing through her body. Tears pricked her eyes, causing her throat and chest to tighten even more, and she couldn't get enough air in —

Apollo laid his palm flat against her forehead and closed his eyes. Immediately, Rachel felt warmth spread from her head and spread down to her limbs until it reached the tips of her toes. Ever so gradually, the tightness in her chest loosened and she took several deep breaths to settle the burning in her lungs. As her heartbeat returned to normal, she murmured a thank to Apollo and then sank back into the pillows, even more exhausted.

"It was no trouble. I should've anticipated that you'd react this way," he said, handing her the paper cup. It took her a moment to wrap her stiff and uncooperative fingers around it and she frowned at them, confused. "I'm sure it was quite the traumatic experience."

Rachel didn't say anything as she took a long gulp of water and willed herself to banish the dark thoughts of Jake and the others from her mind. She needed to stay positive and focus on the fact that she'd survived that horrible encounter instead of the possible alternatives.

She set the cup down on the end table, wincing as her hand cramped and her skin began to tingle with pain. She stared at them, trying not to panic again as she realized something was very wrong.

"Why are my hands not working?"

"Ah," Apollo replied, sounding nervous. He took a step back from her side and reached for the chart on the edge of her bed, flipping a few pages over. "In addition to severe blood loss, there was some heavy nerve and tendon damage along your wrists, especially in your left hand. Most of the feeling and mobility should come back in a few months time and once the stitches come out, especially with physical therapy."

"But?" Rachel asked, because she knew there would be one. Apollo's expression was sorrowful, like it was whenever he was about to recite a particularly tragic poem.

"But there's a chance — a pretty large one, unfortunately — that you might've lost mobility in your left pinky for good. Even with therapy, your other fingers may never work quite right again either."

Rachel suddenly felt short of breath again. She concentrated on her hand, desperately willing it to move normally. The tips of her fingers curled slightly, but there was no other response, other than a flaring, white hot pain near her pinky.

No, no, _no_. This was not happening. This couldn't happen to her, not after everything else. This wasn't _fair_.

"I'm left-handed," Rachel said, dumbstruck. "It's my drawing hand, my painting hand... What — what am I supposed to _do_?"

Her voice cracked and she looked at Apollo pleadingly, hoping he had some magical, godly solution for her. He owed her that much, didn't he? Surely fixing a few damaged nerves and making her hands work again couldn't be considered interfering too much with mortals.

"I'm sorry Rachel, but I've already done all I can for you," Apollo said. "I healed your back when you arrived, except for a few light scratches. Good thing too, or you would've never been able to wear a backless dress every again with the nasty scars those cuts would've created — "

"A dress?" she repeated, staring at him uncomprehendingly. "What... why were you worried about fixing how I would _look_instead the real damage?"

"My dear, the mortals had already seen your arms, I couldn't do too much without raising suspicion — "

"You're a god! You can do whatever you want!" she said hoarsely, her eyes stinging. "I'm a painter! What good am I if my hands don't even work?"

Her vision blurred with tears and she hastily swept them away with the back of her hands. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat, refusing to cry any more. She was not going to sob in front of Apollo, not when she was like this. Briefly, she recalled his cold, aggressive attitude toward her in his office and wondered if this was his punishment for defying him.

"I understand that this is difficult for you, but you need to calm down. It's not good for you to be upset," Apollo replied tensely. "Just think of all the new hobbies you'll find to occupy your time if painting doesn't work out after this."

She glared at him. She couldn't... no, she _could_believe he'd say something horrible like that. If she'd been a skilled pianist or violinist, she had no doubt Apollo would've fixed her hands and then waxed on and on about how the world would be so grateful to not lose such delightful musical talent. But she wasn't. She was just Rachel Dare, an NYU art student with a famous name and a modicum of talent with a paint brush.

Bitterness settled in. She should've never trusted the god as she had. Hadn't Percy and Annabeth warned her enough times to beware the whims of the gods? And now she would pay for it for the rest of her life.

"Lord Apollo," she said evenly, meeting his blue gaze with a steely one of her own. "Thank you for your help and for watching over me. I'll be sure to make a proper sacrifice in your honor when I'm well again. But I think it's time my _actual_doctors took over and consulted with me."

Apollo's shoulders tensed, taken aback by her insolent reply. Judging by his narrowing gaze, he clearly hadn't realized how offensive and hurtful his words had been to her. He set her chart back down on the bed in a huff and stepped away.

"You're obviously upset and need some time to process," he said coolly. "I'll be back to get your statement about what happened after you've calmed down a bit."

His outline glowed brightly. Rachel shut her eyes and looked away before he disappeared with a searing flash. He must've been awfully angry with her to not bother warning her about changing into his godly form.

Rachel looked down at her hands one more time, holding back the despair welling deep within in her. What was she going to do now?

She took several deep breaths and then reached for the nurse's call button.

**-o-**

An entire squadron of doctors, nurses and two black coated detectives responded to her call, and Rachel spent the next hour or so being tested, prodded, consulted and questioned about what had happened to her. She wasn't sure what to say about how her injuries had been caused. The truth was out of the question, so she stuck with the basics.

She'd been kidnapped outside Radio City Music Hall; Liv, Jake and Eric had held her hostage at an unknown location for a few hours before slitting her wrists and back and leaving her to die. No, she wasn't sure what or why they wanted her; no, she didn't use drugs or owe them money, and no, they weren't trying to ransom her father. Yes, Nico and Percy had found her and no, she didn't know how they had or what how she got to the hospital.

Finally, after telling her almost the same thing about her condition and the state of her hands Apollo had, they left her alone with a strict warnings to call if she felt serious pain, nausea or anything more extreme than what she was feeling now.

She was just getting out of bed and trying to figure out how to get to the the bathroom with the world spinning so badly and an IV attached to her elbow, when the door opened again and her parents entered.

"Mom, Dad, " Rachel said, glancing between the two of them, startled by their disheveled appearances. Surely they hadn't spent the night in the hospital. "What...?"

"Oh, _Rachel_," her mother said quietly and rushed forward. Before Rachel knew what was happening, her mother had enveloped her into a bear hug and was sobbing into Rachel's hair. "Darling, we were so worried!"

Rachel could count on one hand how many times she'd seen her mother cry, and one of them had been in an old clip from her days as a soap opera star. She and her parents had a rather strained emotional relationship, considering they'd directed her to the family therapist every time she'd expressed any sort of teenage angst. It was hard to remember that her parents cared about her when half the time they acted as though she didn't exist.

So, in a way, it was sort of... nice to have her normally flawless mother dripping snot on to her hospital gown and holding her tight enough to bust a rib. At least she'd be able to look back on this moment as definite proof of love in the Dare family.

"Mom," she said, touching her mother's arm. "I'm okay. Just a bit torn up, is all."

Mrs. Dare let out another hiccuping sob and pulled away, cupping Rachel's face in her hands. Her mother's blue eyes were still dripping with tears and she sniffled, trying to get her composure back.

"Oh honey, your face..."

She flinched, recalling Eric slapping her at least once, and wondered if those after effects were what her mother was talking about. The doctors hadn't mentioned anything about her face, although Rachel had noticed her skin felt swollen and achy.

Her father must've noticed Rachel's stricken expression because he came to the rescue a moment later, putting his hand on his wife's shoulder and pulling her away. "Olivia, dear, it's just a bruise. There's no need to scare Rachel like that."

"I haven't gotten to look in a mirror yet," she muttered, apologetic for no particular reason. She didn't really _want_to look in a mirror in the first place, especially without a nice, warm shower beforehand.

"It's all right. We're just glad you're awake now," Mr. Dare said, leading his wife to the chairs beside the bed. Rachel sat back down, bathroom trip momentarily forgotten, and stared at her parents, still a little overwhelmed by their behavior. It did not compute with everything she'd grown up with.

"Shouldn't you be at work, Dad?" she blurted out, and was immediately mortified by her lack of tact. "I mean, it's just... you _never_take days off and didn't you have that merger — "

"Dare Enterprises can live without me for a day or so," Mr. Dare said, waving off her stammering explanations. Rachel hadn't missed the flash of hurt that passed across his face though, and she felt like a total ass. "And if the board of directors have an issue with that, then that's hardly my problem. Although I'm going to have to have a little... _chat_with Mr. Delano as to why his sniveling snot of a son attempted to murder my daughter."

"And Catherine Astor is _definitely_not invited to our charity ball this Christmas," her mother added, pulling a compact out of her Chanel purse and dabbing at the smeared make-up under her eyes. "She's been insufferable ever since they had to sell their home in the Hamptons and downgraded from Emerson Hill to the brownstone on 5th. Anyone could have told her that's what happens when you commit tax fraud and now she's got a criminal for a daughter, good Lord.."

Rachel swallowed. "The investigators told you what happened then?"

She wondered if her parents were considering pressing charges. She didn't know if there would be any evidence to find to corroborate her story, which had been thin enough of the way it was, and the other three would probably deny it all and call her a lunatic. Would she get in trouble if the police found out she hadn't told the truth or would the Mist protect her?

Her parents exchanged loaded glances and Mrs. Dare snapped her compact closed, sliding it into her purse. She set her purse down and smoothed her hands over the tops of her pants, one of her tell-tale nervous habits.

"They told us a version of what happened," she said evenly, her face unreadable and stare penetrating. "And the Jackson boy and Nico enlightened us further."

Rachel's mouth went as dry as sandpaper and her hands began to tremble. Did they know about her? Why would Percy and Nico out her like that? Her parents would have bought any story! They didn't need the truth; they wouldn't _believe_the truth.

"What," she cleared her throat, "What do you mean?"

Mr. Dare leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking older than Rachel had ever seen him.

"I'm afraid your mother and I haven't been quite honest with you about some things in our life," he began quietly. "And you have returned our lack of trust by hiding some secrets of your own. It's a bit ironic, considering all the steps your mother and I took to keep you out of this, but I suppose that's Fate for you."

Rachel almost interrupted him, but stopped herself, remembering what Eric had said about her father, Manhattan's elite, and the long standing relationship they had with the Olympians and other gods. There was more to this than she knew and she needed to hear what her father had to say before she drew the wrong conclusions.

"I hope this doesn't come as too much of a shock to you. Your mother and I would have explained at some point, but we hardly needed to with everything under control and... well..."

He looked at his wife, at a loss for words, and Mrs. Dare rolled her eyes.

"What your father means is that he didn't think you cared enough about Dare Enterprises and how we made our money unless it involved bulldozing the home of Toe Sucking Tree Saps or whatever en vogue endangered animal of the month you were always going on about," she said. Rachel realized how weird it was to be _happy_that her mother's tone was back to being haughty and dismissive. "The fact of the matter is that, while your father and I would've amassed quite the fortune on our own due to our respective backgrounds, we wouldn't be in the position we are today without divine intervention. A mortal family doesn't come into power in Manhattan without the blessing of the gods. Preferably from Lord Zeus, which is a very rare achievement indeed and something we managed to keep a handle on for more than twenty years."

Rachel felt light headed and she wasn't quite sure if that was due to her deteriorating physical condition or because her world had just tipped mightily on its axis. Her parents didn't just know about her, they knew about _everything_.

"How...?" She couldn't get the rest of her question out past the choking disbelief and anger building inside her.

She stared at her parents as if she was seeing them for the first time. And in some way, she was. She didn't know these people who made business arrangements with gods and believed in fantasy. They shouldn't know about and, worst of all, _accept_all of this when all they had spent most of Rachel's childhood trying to crush the eccentricity out of her

Mr. Dare rubbed his temples. "Just before you were born, I... made a deal with Lord Zeus. In exchange for his patronage, I would manage his investments and businesses in the mortal world, as well as make significant sacrifices in his name and ensure his — and by extension, the rest of Olympus's — anchor to the mortal world remained strong."

The absurdity of her father's confession took Rachel a few moments to process and even once she had wrapped her mind around the idea that her dad was employed by _Zeus_, the most intelligent thing she could croak out was, "So... so you're Zeus's _stockbroker_?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," her father replied, a little annoyed. "The flame of the Olympus can't survive on support from demigods alone, no matter how powerful and influential they are; it never has been able to. Mortals are what keep the flame glowing and the gods strong. If they abandon those ideals, the gods would — "

"Fade," Rachel interrupted softly, her heart aching as she remembered an enchanted cavern and a god's sad smile from years ago. "I know."

"Exactly. Which is why they select certain advantageous mortals to help... well, _influence_society to the Olympians' advantage and are rewarded for their work."

_Manipulate_was probably a better word for it, Rachel thought, as examples of all the not-so-nice things people like her father and others had probably done to their fellow mortals for the sake of Olympus flowed through her head. She was in no condition to analyze the implications of it all now though; thinking critically about anything made her head throb.

"Liv and Jake... they said you ruined their families," Rachel recalled, hiding her shaking hands beneath the blankets. "Is it because you took their places?"

"The Astors and Delanos have been out of favor with the Olympians for ages." This time, it was her mother who spoke. "Many of the older families have gotten lax with their duties over the years and the gods grew tired of them, so they sought out new opportunities. Sometimes the feuding between families gets a little fierce, but your father had _nothing_to do with what happened yesterday, Rachel."

Rachel nodded, understanding, but she still felt bitterness creeping up from the pit of her stomach through the rest of her body. Even if they'd been oblivious to this plot against her, her parents had known about everything else all this time and they'd done everything they could to keep her from it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked at last, her voice going hoarse with emotion again. "I saw monsters and creatures. You knew I did and you _knew_ they were real... and you put me in _therapy_and on medication? I thought I was going crazy! Why didn't you tell me?"

Mr. and Mrs. Dare looked at each other again, exhaustive guilt written over both their faces. They'd had this conversation about her before, Rachel realized, and that only made the ache in her body worse.

"At first," Mrs. Dare began haltingly, a plea for understanding in her eyes, "we thought it was just your imagination. But as you got older and kept talking about it, we realized it wasn't and... Rachel, we couldn't let you get involved, not after some of the stories we heard from the other families. We wanted you as far away from this business as possible and — and — "

"I found my way into it anyway," Rachel finished as her mother trailed off, eyes filling with tears again. "By becoming the Oracle. And you never guessed?"

"No," Mrs. Dare said with a watery laugh. "Now that we know, all the signs were so _obvious_, I can't believe we ignored them for so long. I feel so stupid."

Mr. Dare reached out and put a comforting hand on his wife's knee, squeezing it once before looking at Rachel again.

"Before I made the deal, Lord Zeus warned me that we might be expected to make a significant sacrifice to the gods some day. I thought he meant money or property or _something_ material, so I agreed. I didn't realize until later," he said, voice choked, "that he might've meant_you_, Rachel. You're the one thing I wouldn't — I _couldn't_sacrifice and I had to keep you away from that world. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Olivia and Warren Dare had been young, arrogant, and foolish when they'd struck that deal with the gods, only thinking of themselves. Her mother had probably become pregnant shortly afterward and when Rachel was born... It must've hit her father the first time he held her, the first time he loved selflessly, the magnitude of what he'd agreed to. What if the gods asked him to give up his daughter, this precious little girl he'd fallen in love the instant he'd held her?

It wouldn't happen. If there was thing Warren Dare was, it was determined, and he would _not_going to let anyone take his daughter from him. And if that meant being distant and cold so no one would guess her importance to them, to never have any more children who could also be taken, then that was what had to be done.

The burning bitterness and anger slowly began to release its hold on Rachel's insides as her father's words sank in. There was still hurt there, to be sure, but she now understood her parents more than she ever had in her life. Understanding wouldn't make the hurt disappear, but it made living with it more bearable, at least.

Her parents had been trying to protect her, in their own messed up and neglectful way, and, as they had come to realize in the last 24 hours, that self-imposed misery they'd inflicted on the family had been absolutely worthless.

**-o-**

After everything that'd happened earlier, Rachel was surprised how well she slept that night. Her pain medicine and the exhaustion that set in after her parents were ushered from the room probably helped her along to sleep and she was thankful for that. The last thing she needed was to toss and turn, dreaming of a lifetime of lies and red eyed monsters dripping with blood.

She was disturbed only once, right after she'd slipped off to sleep, when she thought she felt a cool hand intertwined with hers. Rachel stirred, confused, and she felt the hand tighten around her fingers briefly before it casually slipped away.

By the time she pried her eyes open and whispered, "Nico?" there was nothing in her room but shadows.


	18. Honesty

**Author's notes:** This is the longest chapter so far, clocking in at 7,501 words. I will use that as an excuse as to why it took me forever to update. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own_ Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Honesty**

"Gods, Rachel, you should've seen his face when my dad showed up and he realized I was a demigod... It was basically the greatest moment of my life."

Rachel shot a skeptical expression in her best friend's direction. "Really? Out of everything you've done, having my dad bowing and scraping to you is the _greatest_ moment of your life? I might have to call Annabeth and tell her that."

"Well," Percy amended, leaning back in his chair and grinning at her, "maybe not _the_ greatest. But definitely in the top ten. It was totally vindicating. He even called me by my first name!"

She rolled her eyes, almost reaching out to swat him in the arm, but her forearm flared with pain and she held back. Percy, of course, noticed her minor wince and his grin shifted into a frown.

"You all right?"

"Fine," she said, offering him a sad, consolatory smile. "Just need to remember my hands aren't going to work right for a while."

"I wish I could do more for you," Percy said. "I forget how much harder it is to heal when you don't have ambrosia and nectar on your side. Are you going to have to stay in the hospital much longer?"

"I could go home tomorrow, but I think my parents want me to stay another day, just in case. They're trying to get things sorted out at home with security and stuff, but I'd rather just go back to my apartment with... " she hesitated and then stuttered over her words uncertainly. "W-well, I'd just like to go back there than have them fuss over me all day anyway."

She glanced at her hands, unwilling to see the sympathy written over Percy's face. They'd done so well about avoiding the heavier topics today. He had to know what her verbal stumble was about and his next question confirmed it.

"Nico hasn't come to see you yet?"

Rachel shook her head. She'd had lots of visitors over the course of the day — her parents had come and stayed for lunch, acting much more like their normal selves than the day before, but things were still awkward between the three of them. She imagined they would be for quite some time now. Will Solace had snuck in to say hi as he was passing by during his rounds; Jenna, Monique, and Angeline had all dropped to chat and give her notes for classes, along with a vase of her favorite flowers, and a few other assorted college friends who had all passed the security clearance needed to come see her.

Even Apollo had come back, distant and professional this time, to get her statement on her kidnapping for the Olympian Council to deliberate over. She still hadn't heard what happened with Jake, Liv, and Eric, and the police had returned to take another statement or evidence from her. She was sure it was being taken care of one way or another, and maybe that was what had kept Nico so busy. At least, she hoped that was the case.

Aside from her particularly vivid dreams, there had been no sign of the son of Hades since she'd woken up in the hospital.

Percy had been the last let in to see her and there were only a few minutes left before visiting hours were over. She was sure he noticed how her eyes darted from the doorway to the clock and then back again throughout their conversation.

Percy sighed. "Don't worry about it too much, okay? The gods had some kind of meeting after you were out of surgery and Nico went to talk to Hades afterward. I haven't seen him since then either."

Anxiety tightened Rachel's chest. That sounded particularly ominous. The gods wouldn't punish Nico for failing to protect her, would they? Apollo might do it on a whim, but surely Hades wouldn't stand for that.

"Do you think he's okay?" she said, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure he's fine," Percy replied. "His dad might've given him a task to complete or he might be out brooding in a corner somewhere. He'll come and see you when he's ready."

Rachel nodded, barely satisfied by Percy's answer. Nico's absence was disheartening and puzzling. He had saved her life and she knew he cared about her, so... why hadn't he come to see her? Was he ashamed of himself? Mad at her? Gods, she wished she knew. Having to guess like this made it all worse.

A knock against the doorframe drew Rachel out of her thoughts and her nurse, Yolanda, poked her head into the room. "Excuse me, Miss Dare, but visiting hours are over."

"All right," Rachel said, sliding out of her bed as Percy unfolded from his chair. It was easier to move around today now that her body was on the path to recovery, but Percy still held on to her elbow as they walked toward the door. "Thanks for coming, Percy. And for... well, you know. Being a hero."

Percy smiled and gently pulled her into his arms for a hug. "You're my best friend, Rachel. Helping wasn't even a question. You have no idea how happy I am that you're safe."

Rachel's heart filled with love for Percy. As much trouble as he'd gotten her into the last seven years, she couldn't imagine her life without him. He was her best friend and always would be, no matter what.

"I'll see you around?" she asked as she pulled away from Percy's embrace.

"Obviously. Annabeth mentioned maybe taking the train down tomorrow, so you might get two visitors for the price of one."

Rachel had forgotten about Annabeth, stuck up in Boston while this was going on. She hoped Percy had left out the gorier details when he called her. Annabeth would never forgive her boyfriend or Nico for not being at Rachel's side immediately in a crisis, and she wouldn't forgive herself for not taking the threats against her friend's life seriously.

"That sounds wonderful," Rachel said, walking into the hall. Yolanda stood nearby, poised to hustle her back to bed at the first sign of distress. "I'll see you soon."

Percy gave her a half-hearted salute and a wink, and headed toward the elevators at the end of the hall. Rachel leaned against her door jam and watched him until he disappeared inside the elevator's doors.

"He looks like the boy your father talked to this morning," Yolanda said abruptly, her gaze directed down the hall too. Rachel turned her puzzled gaze on the nurse. "The tall one with the leather jacket? I thought he might be your boyfriend, but then he practically disappeared as soon as you were awake."

Nico.

"Oh," Rachel replied, dismayed. "No. No, he's not my boyfriend. Just... someone I know."

She glanced despondently at the chair beside her hospital door for a long moment, as if Nico would suddenly reappear in it by force of sheer will, and then floated back into her room, worry for the young man numbing her limbs.

* * *

The Dare family home was an understated, six story white limestone townhouse just off 5th Avenue and within a block or two of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The large French windows and the rounded facade were some of the few features that set it apart from the other homes on the block, but otherwise, the only indication that Manhattan's richest family lived in the home was the gold plaque engraved with the Dare name above the doorbell. There wasn't even a gate to keep people from approaching the stoop, although the security camera perched under the balcony probably did its part in keeping unwanted visitors away.

Nico knew the town house's exterior didn't mean much — a lot of the older places in Manhattan were flashier on the inside than the outside — but the Dares relative subtlety with their home was surprising, considering the modern architectural monstrosity that was the Dare Enterprises tower in Midtown. He felt slightly less out of place here than he would have if the Dares lived in some giant Long Island mansion with a sprawling yard and guest house.

He glanced around as he approached the front step, wondering where the paparazzi were lurking at. There'd been a gaggle of them smoking and yapping on their cell phones outside Mount Sinai Hospital since Rachel had been admitted, and he'd been so sure he'd find a few more waiting at the Dare's house that he rode his motorcycle instead of shadow traveling. The subway gossip rags had been full of speculation about Rachel and Warren Dare's sudden, perhaps forced, leave of absence from his company. Someone at the hospital had leaked information about Rachel's injuries and now all sorts of explanations and accusations were being thrown about. Nico wouldn't be surprised if some of the "sources" turned out to be one of the families behind Rachel's attack in the first place.

He reached out and pressed his thumb against the doorbell, wondering — not for the first time today — why Mr. Dare had wanted to talk to him. They'd already told him everything he wanted to know about Rachel and why she'd been targeted. Mr. Dare certainly hadn't looked happy to see him lurking outside Rachel's hospital room that morning, although he'd been painfully civil to him. He probably still thought of Nico as that ratty punk he caught his daughter making out with, except now he was a ratty punk with divine heritage.

Or maybe that _was_ the problem. Mr. Dare probably would've killed for a demigod as an eventual son-in-law... just not one who was a son of Hades, too.

The night at the hospital, Nico's father had not elaborated on his connection to the Dare family nor had he raged Nico for his failure at protecting Rachel and embarrassing him in front of the other council members. Instead, Hades had given him a stern lecture about the balance of Fate and reminded his son that he had no role in condemning a mortal's soul. Nico's confusion had quickly turned to fury when he realized his father was referring to the man who had attacked Rachel, especially when he discovered his father had called off the skeleton soldiers before they could killed the man. If anyone deserved to die, it was that worthless piece of scum.

_"Be that as it may,"_ his father had replied, sensing his murderous thoughts, _"it was not his time to die, nor will it be at your hand. He still has a part to play and I will not have you running wild and abusing your powers on whim against mortals. You have many responsibilities as my son, Nico, but leave taking another's life up to me."_

In his own way, Nico supposed his father was trying to protect what was left of his son's innocence. Nico had been around death all his life, but he had never killed anyone aside from monsters before. He'd felt the urge to kill plenty of times, particularly during the rough years of puberty, but he'd buried those urges deep and stayed in control. He wondered if murder unleashed a terrible power in the children of Hades — the thing that gave them such a horrible reputation and was something that even their father feared.

Nico hoped he'd never have to find that out.

The Dare's door swung open, and a big, bald butler appeared in the doorway, staring at Nico critically. He didn't say anything, and Nico cleared his throat, holding himself a little straighter and taller.

"I'm here to see Mr. Dare. I have an, uh, appointment this afternoon. My name's Nico di Angelo."

The butler gave him a once over, taking in Nico's haggard, worn appearance, and then, surprisingly, let a small smile crack on his face.

"Ah, so _you're_ the infamous boyfriend Mr. Dare has been ranting about for the last two weeks. I should've known. Rachel's taste always tends to run to the scruffy side."

Nico's face colored in embarrassment. "Uh, yeah. I guess that's me."

The other man pulled the front door open a little wider, ushering him inside. Nico had been right about the interior — a crystal chandelier glittered in the foyer's high ceiling above and a sweeping black staircase contrasted dramatically with the pristine white walls and fine wood flooring. The Dare's decorating scheme was a mix of modern and classical, similar to Rachel's penthouse, and there was a very definite lived in feeling about it.

"Mr. Dare will be meeting you in the upstairs study," the butler said, walking over the stairs and starting upward. "If you'll follow me."

Nico nodded, hurrying up the stairs after him, and looked around with interest at the three large, gilded family pictures hanging on the wall. Mr. Dare was featured first, photographed in a three piece power suit, leaning against his office desk with Manhattan skyline clearly visible in background. Following him was Mrs. Dare, smiling radiantly from what was probably the house's garden terrace, dressed in a smart white dress and red cardigan. Nico would bet money that both of the photos had probably been published in a magazine or two at some point.

Last came Rachel — it was probably one of her senior pictures, Nico decided, because she didn't look too much younger in it. She was posed primly in front of a sitting room window and wearing a elegant purple dress — she looked beautiful, but there was such a stiff, airbrushed quality about her that Nico found himself disliking it almost immediately.

At the top of the landing, there was a portrait of all three of the Dares that was severely outdated and definitely lacked the glossy, finished quality of the other three. It was a candid shot during a family vacation to Disneyworld. Rachel couldn't be more than four or five years old, and she was perched on her father's shoulders, wearing one of those typical Mickey Mouse hats and an ear-to-ear grin on her face.

Nico made a mental note to tease her about that later. If there would be a later, anyway.

But what struck him most about the picture were Mr. and Mrs. Dare's faces. There were lots of pictures of the two them in the penthouse, and he'd never seen them look so loving and carefree as they did in this one. He wondered what had happened to change that later in their lives.

The butler led him up one more flight of stairs and then down a hallway, pausing in front of an ajar oak door. He knocked on the door's frame and then pushed it open after a beat.

"Mr. di Angelo is here, sir."

Oh, so he was a _mister_ now, huh? He certainly hadn't been called that in his last cringe-worthy talk with Mr. Dare

"Excellent, thank you, Jenkins," Mr. Dare said crisply from his desk chair. He didn't bother to look up from his computer screen and acknowledge them as his fingers flew over the keyboard. He looked fairly relaxed in a white collar shirt and with reading glasses perched on his nose. "Well, come in, I haven't got all day."

Nico glanced at Jenkins (honestly, who _actually_ had a butler named Jenkins?) and then shuffled inside the dark-paneled study, listening for the door shutting behind him. Aside from the shelves of pictures of Mr. Dare with various famous people and some very expensive looking knick-knacks, Mr. Dare's office could've belonged to any middle aged businessman in the tri-county area.

Nico pulled out one of the flush chairs in front of the desk and sat on the edge, consciously trying to be on his best behavior. Mr. Dare frowned at something on his computer screen, typed a rapid-fire response back, and flicked the monitor off, turning toward Nico with an irritated sigh.

"Can't leave the company for a week without something going to hell," he muttered, pulling his glasses off and folding them into the front pocket of his shirt. He focused on Nico for the first time and then, as if he remembered who he was talking to, he straightened in his chair. "So then, Nico."

"So," Nico echoed, after an awkward period of silence. "Mr Dare. You, uh, wanted to talk to me? Again?"

"I did, but, I'll confess, I'm not even sure where to begin," the older man admitted wearily. "I'm afraid I probably didn't leave the best impression on you during our last two encounters. I tend to overreact where Rachel is concerned, and it might be best if we wipe the slate clean, since it seems you will be in my daughter's life for the foreseeable future."

Nico started at this. "What are you talking about?"

Mr. Dare's eyes narrowed slightly. "You _are_ her bodyguard, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but Apollo might be reconsidering after... after what I let happen to her," he replied, balling his hands up on the chair beside his legs. "Honestly, sir, I — I don't think I deserve to keep protecting Rachel."

"And why is that?"

Nico gaped at him. "Did you _see_ your daughter? She almost died!"

"I know," Mr. Dare said quietly, suddenly looking very old for his age. He ran a hand through his hair, the fading sunlight revealing a few silver hairs here and there. "And you're the one who found her; the only one who _could've_ found her. Isn't that right?"

"No," Nico denied, but prickle of doubt immediately seeped in.

Even though Percy and Malcolm had helped him piece together Rachel's location, he was the only one with the power to get to her fast enough. The only other demigods who could bend space and move as fast as he were children of Hermes, but they needed precise coordinates whereas Nico didn't. Percy wouldn't have needed a boat to cross the river, but he would've had to call a cab or hop on a subway to get to the river, and by then, it would've been too late. And mortals? Forget about it.

He could find Rachel halfway around the world and be there in seconds if he needed to. Judging by Mr. Dare's self-satisfied stare, he knew it too.

"I guess... I mean, I had help," he sputtered. "I just — I don't understand. You _want_ me to keep being her bodyguard?"

"I _need_ you to keep being her bodyguard, for as long as she's still the Oracle," Mr. Dare corrected. "I will sleep much better at night knowing that a son of Hades is watching out for the things I can't protect her from. I trust you more than that Jackson idiot, anyway."

It was strange, having someone trust his abilities so implicitly, especially someone who couldn't have cared less about him two weeks ago. Nico didn't even trust himself that much; he had too much history weighing him down to believe otherwise.

"What if the gods decide to replace me?"

"Then I'll hire you and you'll work for me instead. I'll even pay you; I should give you backpay the way it is," he said, plucking a pen out of a holder and writing a note on his blotter. Nico almost told him not to bother, but he knew that Mr. Dare would go ahead and write a check anyway. "However, if you haven't heard from the gods by now, I would think you still have a job. They tend to be rather direct with their displeasure, don't they?"

Nico nodded. "Apollo has been itching to kick my ass, so... yeah, you're probably right."

"And I suppose that has something to do with you and Rachel having an intimate relationship when she's not supposed to?" He let Nico squirm, mumble explanations and get red in the face for a few moments, clearly delighting in making him uncomfortable, before continuing on. "I'm not going to lie and say that a romantic relationship between you and my daughter doesn't concern me. It's a very clear conflict of interest between your personal and professional lives. I don't want Rachel's safety to depend on whether or not you're upset with her."

The guilt that'd been hanging over his head the last two days settled heavily deep in Nico's chest and he stared at his feet. He'd already let his feelings for Rachel compromise his professionalism, and look where that had lead them. He'd known she'd end up getting hurt and he'd ignored his instincts. That could not happen again.

"But I also think your feelings for her are an asset, if you keep them under control," Mr. Dare continued, causing Nico to jerk his head up. "It means you care more about her than money or rewards, and that you'll do anything to protect her. Is that right?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I'm not going to make the same mistake this time."

"Good, because I'm trusting you to do exactly that. If Rachel gets hurt again and I find out you weren't doing your absolute _best_ to keep her out of harm's way, our talk won't be as friendly."

And by that, Nico was sure he meant that the demigod wouldn't escape the Dare home with his kneecaps and possibly several other bones intact next time, vague friendship with his father or not.

"I understand, Mr. Dare."

The older man nodded, relaxing slightly in his chair. He glanced at his wristwatch and reached over to turn his computer monitor back on; Nico understood he was about to be dismissed.

"Hospital visiting hours are almost over, so you should head back there for the night. I can call security and let them know — "

"There's no need," Nico said, standing abruptly. "I was planning on going again anyway. They didn't even know I was there last night. It's kind of what kids of Hades are good at."

"Did Rachel know you were there?" He hesitated with his answer and Mr. Dare frowned. "Nico, have you seen or talked Rachel _at all_ since she left the emergency room?"

"Not exactly."

He was sure she'd sensed him when he held her hand last night, but he hadn't stuck around in the room for her to wake up. He didn't want to talk to Rachel yet, didn't want to see the disappointment and hatred in her eyes when he did show up. He'd hadn't been honest with her. He'd promised he wouldn't let anything hurt her and he had failed. She probably wouldn't be able to stand the sight of him.

If he was honest with himself, was probably better — safer — for the both of them if that was the case and they parted ways. His chest ached at the very thought of it and he knew he wasn't selfless enough to let it happen.

"Well then, get going and talk to her. Rachel's got enough on her plate to worry about, she doesn't need to be upset over you for no good reason on top of that."

His stomach plummeted at the thought of having disappointed Rachel even more. Gods, she definitely wasn't going to want anything to do with him.

"Yessir. Thank you," Nico walked toward the door and then paused, turning back around. "Just one more question, Mr. Dare... How do you know my dad?"

"Lord Hades runs the numbers and supplies the gold return for Olympus's mortal investors," Mr. Dare said, jerking his thumb in the direction of a picture on one of the shelves. Nico squinted and almost collapsed at the sight of his father in a sweater vest and voluminous plaid pants. "Plus, we go golfing together whenever I'm in L.A. Your father has an incredible handicap."

* * *

There was exactly one crack in the ceiling of Rachel's hospital room, and she'd traced its dark line over and over in her mind as she waited for sleep to overtake her again. She hadn't taken any pain medication tonight, something she was starting to regret as her arms began to itch and burn under her bandages. Falling asleep was much harder than it had been last night.

She had too much on her mind — all the things she hadn't wanted to think of during the day kept pushing forward, shrieking for attention and making her temples pound — and she couldn't focus enough to get them back in line and shut away. She'd tried almost all the meditation techniques and breathing exercises she knew, and nothing was calming her down. Each agonizingly dull minute pushed her closer and closer to ringing the night shift nurse and asking for some heavy duty pain medication just to knock her out.

She glared at the crack, as if it the only thing guilty of keeping her awake, and turned onto her side, careful not to lay on her bandaged arms, and transferred her stare to the dark wall. She wished her mother had thought to bring her iPod during her visit today... or had it been in her bag when she'd been kidnapped? Had someone found it or had Eric dumped it into the Hudson? Was any of her other stuff missing? Gods, she couldn't even remember.

Rachel's skin began to prickle — not just that on her injuried arms, but a full, all-over body prickle that made her shiver and pull her blanket up tighter around her. She hoped it was just the air kicking on and not the start of a cold. That would be all she fucking needed —

Her thoughts tumbled to a halt and she blinked. The shadows on her wall were moving.

She watched, frozen with shock and unexpected terror, as the shadows danced and folded on in themselves, slinking up the wall and across the ceiling, toward the other side of the room. Rachel's eyes snapped closed, unwilling to see what form the shadows were going to take, and felt panic welling in her chest. Had a demon been sent to finish her off? What was she going to do without...

The chill abruptly faded from her room, replaced by a prickly, dark presence that she was much more comfortable and familiar with. Rachel's panic leaked out of her body and relief flooded through her veins instead, causing her to sigh and open her eyes.

She knew that presence — she'd know it anywhere.

"It's after visiting hours, you know," she mumbled, rolling over and watching him step out of the shadows beside her window. "You're going to get in trouble."

"I know," Nico said quietly, approaching her bed. He was dressed simply in a pair of black jeans with his leather jacket over a gray shirt, and his face betrayed the strain he'd been under the day and half. The circles under his eyes were darker than usual and he'd forgotten to shave, so his chin was studded with dark stubble. "I didn't mean to wake you... I just wanted to check in and see how you were."

"Please, only creepy vampires watch girls while they sleep," Rachel said, shuffling into a sitting position. Nico might look a bit unkempt, but it was nothing compared to her messy ponytail, mismatched pajamas and, of course, the bandages and bruises. "And I believe you've very vehemently denied being a creepy vampire before. The evidence appears to be stacking against you."

He rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting upward slightly. "If wearing black and being a night person is all you've got, I'm not impressed with your paranormal detective skills."

Nico sat beside her on the edge of her bed and tentatively reached out to place his hand on top of hers. She stared at their hands, wishing she could curl her fingers around his, and felt an overwhelming wave of unhappiness wash over her. Nothing was going to be the same for them now.

"I thought you weren't going to come," she admitted, unable to tease any more. She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as the wall she'd put up to keep her emotions at bay began to crumble. She was too tired to fight the need to cry now. "Percy said you left after you talked to your dad and — and I thought... "

"That I was gone for good?" he asked, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. His touch felt hotter than normal, and she wanted to feel his hands and arms wrapped around her. She wanted to feel him everywhere. "You had a lot of visitors earlier, and I didn't want to overwhelm you, especially if you didn't want to see me."

"Of course I wanted to see you. I know we fought, but... you saved my life." Her cheeks were wet with tears as she recalled her hazy memories. She'd tried not to think about horror of that night, focusing on the way Nico had cradled her in his arms before everything went black instead.

Nico's face turned grim and he looked away. "I didn't. It's my — "

"Don't you start with that," she interrupted, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "I made the decision to leave my apartment. I knew better and I still did it. It was stupid and I was mad at you, and we weren't taking the threat seriously. They would've got me at some point; you know they would have."

He said nothing, still staring at the wall beside her bed and absentmindedly stroking her hand with his. Maybe he didn't want to acknowledge how futile this entire effort of theirs had been and that fate had once again wormed it's way into his life, threatening to take someone important to him away. Maybe he was tired of caring about people and that was why it had taken him so long to come to her, so he could find a way to let her down easy.

Maybe he thought this would be the end of their story, although Rachel was entirely unwilling to believe that.

"It's not your fault I got hurt," she continued, "so you can't blame yourself any more than you already have. I've got a lot of stitches and I'm exhausted, but I survived and that — that's what matters. Not how we screwed up."

Nico finally turned his gaze on her, his eye glittering with an emotion she couldn't identify. "Rachel, if I had delayed even a minute more..." he shook his head, his voice getting more hoarse as he spoke. "I knew I couldn't protect you, not after we... after I... "

"After we what, kissed? Nico, that has nothing to do with — "

"It has everything to do with it!" he interrupted harshly, pulling his hand from hers. He crossed his arms over his chest, his anger simmering. "When I care about people, they get hurt. When I love someone, they _die_. The way I am — _what_ I am, it puts people in danger. People like you. I'm not meant to protect. I should've never said yes to this job."

Rachel shook her head. "That is not true, and you know it, Nico di Angelo."

His impassioned gaze turned into a fierce glare. "Don't give me that bullshit, Rachel. I know what I am."

"And I know what _I_ am," Rachel said, reaching out and pressing her hand against his chest. "I am not some delicate mortal girl. I am an _Oracle_. You don't think I know what it's like to put people in danger? I deliver death and destruction on a creepy platter every time some poor demigod asks me the wrong question. I _get_ it, Nico. I'm just as dangerous as you, maybe even more so, and that isn't going to change. I refuse to believe there's something inherently wrong about you just because your dad's in charge of the Underworld, just like there's nothing wrong with me because my eyes glow sometimes. I'm not afraid of being with you, Nico, and I probably won't ever be, so stop trying to push me away."

She let go of his shirt, hand and wrist aching mightily, and slumped back against her pillows. That little speech took more out of her than she thought it would, but she needed to say it and he needed to hear it.

Nico stared at her, studying her with his dark, impenetrable eyes for a few beats. Then, at last, he scoffed and said, "You are _not_ more dangerous than me, Dare."

A teary laughed burbled out of her. "That's your response to my incredibly heartfelt speech? This isn't a contest, you know."

"I know."

Then, Nico's lips were on hers and Rachel's mind went blank, her body melting into her bed with pleasure. She could tell he was trying to keep it gentle; his hands cupped her face like it was made of spun glass, careful to avoid her bruises and tear tracks, kissing her slow and smooth. Their desperation seeped through as the kiss deepened, and Rachel craved his firmer, passionate touch, pressing herself against him, urging him on. She wanted to feel the blood race through her veins, the aching heat and breathlessness — every second of a it was a head spinning reminder that she was _alive_.

She gasped in disappointment when he abruptly pulled away a few moments later, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I had to," he murmured breathlessly. "Except we — "

"Can't, I know," Rachel finished, shivering as his fingers tangled in her hair. She tried not to let the disappointment linger; she'd known this would be coming. "Not for a long time. Maybe not ever."

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the pessimist between us," he joked, smiling a little. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "We can't now, but... I can wait. I will wait. For as long as it takes."

More tears flooded Rachel's eyes as an incredible warmth spread through her chest. Did he know what he was saying? Maybe the kissing had cut off the oxygen to his brain for a little too long.

"You don't have to; you don't owe me anything."

"You don't understand," Nico said, pressing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. "When I saw you like that, I was so afraid. I don't know what I would've done if you had... I would've lost it. It shouldn't take something like that for me to realize, that I don't want to lose you. Not to them or Apollo or someone else." He hesitated, swallowing, and opened his eyes again. "You are worth the wait for me, Rachel Elizabeth Dare."

The sincerity in his words absolutely stunned Rachel and for a little bit, she had no idea what to say or do. Everything caught up with her very quickly, and Rachel hiccuped, throwing her arms around him. She buried her face in his neck as sobs began to course through her body — brought on by both the good and bad events of the week.

"Thank you," she whispered into the crook of his neck, hoping he didn't mind her tears.

She knew what Nico'd been trying to say, even if the words weren't ready to come out yet, and it meant the world to her.

Nico murmured a quiet response, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. His hands settled against her lower back, pulling her against his body and more firmly into his embrace.

The waiting could begin tomorrow — the rest of the night was theirs and theirs alone.

* * *

"What's with the sour face?"

Apollo tore his gaze from the closed door he'd been glaring at for quite some time to, instead, glare at the mousey hospital volunteer that had paused in her rounds to lean against the wall beside him. Her red and white striped smock was much too short and low cut for a regular's outfit, and the stilettos she had on were definitely not hospital appropriate. She noticed that his gaze had settled on her chest and sent a sultry wink his way.

"Like what you see, big boy?"

"Aphrodite, the position's called a candy striper, not a candy _stripper_," he snapped, shuffling away from her. "Go away."

The god had been lurking in the halls of Mount Sinai for some time tonight, keeping tabs on Rachel until the blasted son of Hades had shown up twenty minutes ago. He did not like that the two of them were in that room alone together after such an emotional last few days; their inability to keep their hands off each other was almost legendary. He'd very much like to storm in there and remove the brat's hands from his body, but Zeus had made it clear at the council meeting that the demigod was to continue his duties as Rachel's bodyguard and was not to be harmed until the conflict with the Norse was resolved. Apollo was still stewing about that decision — a godly conflict such as this could go on for _years_. Who knew what trouble he could get Rachel in by then; he'd already had nearly gotten her killed.

It so figured his father would send someone else on the council to keep an eye on him. His self-control was _air tight_, thank you very much!

"Oh, I know what the position's called. But these uniforms are so drab, so... _functional_! I simply had to make some updates," the goddess replied lightly, placing a hand on her hip. "Not your type today, huh?"

"You've never been my type, as you well know."

Aphrodite tapped a finger against her chin, pretending that she was thinking hard before she snapped her fingers and said, "Oh, I've got it!"

Apollo watched with considerable disinterest as the goddess's form morphed and twisted. The event was nothing new to him; she changed her appearance practically every half hour on Olympus. However, the form she finally settled on was. Her hair had lengthened into scarlet curls and her skin was now pale with a smattering of freckles across her nose; she was slightly taller and less curvy than before, and she was wearing an oversized blue sweater and tattered black leggings with ankle boots. A pair of black frame glasses over her blue-green eyes completed the ensemble.

She looked like Rachel's gorgeous older sister, and Apollo immediately wanted to hit her. He was in no mood to be disrespected and teased like this.

"There, this should be perfect. I've never done a hipster before," she said with a giggle, and even her voice was similar to Rachel's husky drawl. She smirked when she saw Apollo's furious expression and flipped her hair over her shoulder arrogantly. "Really, lighten up, Apollo. The whole of Olympus knows about your jealous little crush on the poor Oracle — it's so typical of you."

"Me? Jealous of a son of _Hades_?" he spat his uncle's name in fury, balling his fists together. "You must be joking. She is my Oracle. She knows she's breaking her vows and yet she goes ahead and — and keeps cavorting with the little bastard! They're both dishonoring me and I'm just supposed to put up with that?"

He gestured explosively toward the closed door and the hallway lights flickered dangerously, responding to his sudden surge of power. He quickly reined it back in; the hospital had managed to survive a council meeting intact and he would not destroy it now in a pique of temper.

All right. So maybe his self-control had been tested slightly in the last week. He still didn't need a babysitter.

"Such a drama queen. They're not doing anything your Oracles before haven't done. In fact, if I remember correctly, they're actually being rather tame compared the Oracles of old," Aphrodite said. "You're upset that the boy got to her first, it's an understandable blow to your oversized ego, blah blah blah, I _know_, but you really must desist with the death threats. It's really harshing my groove."

Her groove? Apollo frowned at this and studied Aphrodite carefully. It clicked after a moment or two and he swore under his breath. He should have known.

"You _planned_ this? The two of them?"

Aphrodite smiled innocently and shrugged, the collar of her sweater sliding off her shoulder and revealing the freckled skin underneath.

"Aren't they just the cutest together? I'll admit, when Eros mentioned the possibility a few years ago during that Camp Half-Blood reunion special on HTV, I thought it a wee bit unconventional, but they've completely grown on me. The misunderstood son of Hades and the affection starved Oracle! What a hot little pair. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get them together with him overseas and then this little situation cropped up. I just couldn't help but push things along!"

Apollo breathed through his nose, keeping his rage locked tight in his chest. He had to remind himself, yet again, that while Aphrodite might occasionally look and adopt the temperament of a teenage girl, she was much older and stronger than he. The new millenium had given her additional strength — Apollo liked to blame that damn _Twilight_ phase the mortals had gone through more than anything else. She was a primal force of nature and once she got involved with another god's affairs, chances were, things were going to go her way.

Usually, he and Aphrodite worked together quite well with their respective domains. Love and creativity went hand-in-hand, especially where music was concerned, and they generally didn't have much cause for conflict. They'd even been on the same side of the Trojan War, for Zeus's sake! He couldn't remember the last time Aphrodite had crossed him like this.

Well, after this stunt, she _certainly_ wouldn't be getting a floppy haired British boy band from him for her birthday any time soon. That'd teach her. Setting up his Oracle to fall in love _indeed_.

"And you didn't bother to consult me first?" he asked tensely. "She is the first Oracle I've had in quite a while. I might've liked to hold on to her for a bit longer."

"Honey, you would have said no. You're infatuated with Miss Dare and we all know how you get when you want something and don't get it — you throw a tantrum and shoot things dead with your arrows. You would've never worked out anyway."

He knew he shouldn't ask, but he did anyway.

"I'm the god of prophecy; how are you so sure? I'm much better suited for her than _him_." He jerked his head toward the closed door irritably.

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes over the top of her glasses. "I know it because _you_ don't love her. Not like Nico di Angelo does. And she doesn't love you."

"I could make her."

Suddenly, the goddess was up in his face, all teasing gone from her features, and she prodded a finely manicured nail into his chest.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare is not yours. She never has been, and she never will be, no matter how hard you try to wish it to be so," Aphrodite said fiercely. "She loves that boy, even if she hasn't realized it yet. It's fate and you of all gods know how well interfering with _that_ goes. You mess this up for me, and I will bring a world of hurt on you that makes Hades's threats look like child's play. You understand?"

Apollo did not appreciate being threatened, yet again, over this matter. Why was this di Angelo boy so important that the other council members had to go to bat for him? Hades he could understand, of course, but since when had Aphrodite gotten so protective over her precious demigod relationships? She usually enjoyed a classic unrequited and unfulfilled romance. Perhaps she'd gotten her fill of angst and melodrama from the Percy and Annabeth saga; she done her job so well that the drama was still unfolding with Jackson's refusal to propose to the poor daughter of Athena.

Still, as much as he wanted Rachel, she was not worth the risk of annoying one of his oldest allies. At least until she forgot about her pet project and moved on to a new one.

"I understand, Lady Aphrodite," he acquiesced. "But I won't let go of her that easily. She made a vow to me and she will fulfill it until I'm satisfied."

Aphrodite surprised him a secretive smile.

"Well, now. Who said anything about making it _easy_?"

* * *

Next time on _**Death's Dare**_:Nico goes hunting for Kate and finds out some unsettling news about a particularly troublesome Norse god.


	19. Interlude: Something Blue

**Notes:** This is not a new chapter – it's an interlude! Ooooh. I started writing chapter 19 and this is mentioned in one of the scenes, and I decided it would be cheating people to _not_ include it in the story proper. It doesn't really belong with the rest of the chapter and I didn't want to make it a "deleted scene" since I've always intended it to be a part of the story... hence, an interlude!

There isn't much Rachel/Nico in this update, and for that, I apologize. But I really don't think most of you will care. ;)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_.

* * *

**Interlude: Something Blue**

Annabeth Chase was not one to skip Friday afternoon classes, even if they were the ones that involved the most tedious and boring busywork of the week.

She'd planned on taking the train to New York Saturday morning, but with her best friend's near murder splashed over all the news constantly and the cryptic call her brother made to discuss the Norse gods and the way her boyfriend had been _very_ vague about what exactly he'd let happen in New York while she was gone, sacrifices had to be made and train tickets must be booked immediately.

She'd sent Percy a quick text that she was coming early when she boarded in Boston, but hadn't gotten a response from him yet. She hoped some monster hadn't eaten his phone again; although cell phone use was still dangerous for demigods, both Annabeth and Percy attracted enough monsters on their own that a few text messages wouldn't do much damage.

Her train was pulling out of Newark to head into Penn Station when her phone finally did beep and Percy's response appeared.

_Sorry, was with Rachel. Meet u GCS in 30?_

Annabeth fired back her response (_Get me a mocha and we have a deal_) and stuffed her phone back into her pocket, gathering the homework she had scattered over her table in the last few hour and stuffing it back into her saddlebag.

Grand Central Station had become one of their spots around the city in the last few years. In high school, it'd been the halfway meeting point between her school in Williamsburg and Sally Jackson's apartment on the Upper West Side, and it was within walking distance of the Empire State Building when she needed to run up and make some quick adjustments to her designs. It was easy for them to meet, grab a coffee and chat when they didn't have much time to do anything else.

There was just something about Grand Central that was so romantic to Annabeth that she didn't mind the extra hassle of train changes to get over. She was a great fan of the beaux arts style buildings, and Penn Station just didn't have the same aesthetic appeal that Grand Central did. There was just something so grandiose about it, almost like she stepped into another era once she was inside, and when she was with Percy, that outside world melted almost completely away.

The tradition lingered into college, when Annabeth would take the train home on holiday weekends to visit. Eventually, when Percy got an apartment on his own, he just started meeting her at the closest station to his apartment and they skipped the reunions at Grand Central. It was more convenient and certainly practical, Annabeth would admit, but she still missed searching around the concourse for his messy dark hair and kissing him by the iconic clock, under the fading sunlight streaming through the station's large Tiffany windows.

A lot about their relationship had become convenient and practical lately. It was an easy habit to fall into since she and Percy were in a long distance relationship. They rarely got to see each other in person more than once a month during the school year, except during winter break, and last summer, Annabeth had been so busy with her internship that she barely got to see Percy on the weekends, even though she was living with him. There wasn't a lot of romance and spontaneity in Annabeth's life any more, and she missed it more than she thought she would. So she was glad for the invite to Grand Central. Maybe it would bring a little bit of spark back for the weekend.

Penn Station was filled with the lingering remains of the Friday rush hour when she arrived a little while later, the platforms and concourses crowded with people ready to go home for the weekend. Annabeth easily slid through the crowds, making her way to the metro platform as swiftly as possible.

A metro stop and a train transfer later, Annabeth had made it to Grand Central probably a little earlier than Percy had planned. She was walking up the ramp to the main concourse, trying to decide where she would meet him, when she heard someone shout her name. Glancing behind her, she immediately spotted Percy standing on the walkway over the ramp, a Starbucks cup in hand and a smile on his face. He waved too her, and she waved back.

"Be there in a second!" she called and picked up her pace.

Percy didn't move much by the time she got to his level; he'd settled in the corner on the far end, leaning his back against the railing to stay out of the way of the other travelers walking past. She was struck by how handsome he looked, wearing a pair of worn out jeans and a blue flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; he'd cut his hair since he'd IM'd her last, so the usual mess was a bit more contained and close cropped.

"Hey," she said, a little breathlessly as she stopped in front of him. She reached for the coffee cup. "Gimme."

"What, I don't get a hug first?" Percy teased, holding the cup away from her as she tried to snatch it out of his hands. "Or a kiss?"

"Oh, I suppose," Annabeth drawled, stepping closer and leaning in for a kiss. Secretly, she was grateful he had asked first. These days, if Annabeth didn't initiate something physical between them, it didn't happen. It almost made her feel like he was going through the motions with her, as if he didn't want to touch her any more.

But that mean little thought was hard to believe when he was kissing her as enthusiastically as he was right now.

"You are way too easy to bribe, you know that?" Percy said, grinning spectacularly as he pulled away. He handed her the coffee and leaned back against the rail.

"Oh, shush, my caffeine dependence is not something you should take advantage of," she said, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. She took a sip of her mocha, sighing as it warmed her. "How was your visit with Rachel?"

Percy's smile dimmed quite a bit, and worry set in on his features. "She's... okay, I think. She was acting like nothing was wrong, but her hands are pretty messed up and those guys had her for a few hours. I think it's going to be worse when she gets out of the hospital and sees what everyone's been saying about her. Or if she sees those photos..."

Annabeth knew what Percy was talking about. Someone in the hospital had apparently snapped a grainy cell phone picture of Rachel, unconscious and covered in her own blood, when Nico and Percy had brought her into the emergency room and sold it to the New York Post; Annabeth had seen it on the cover of several gossip rags covers, with various terrible headlines, and had wanted to rip them all to shreds.

"I hope Mr. Dare sues those assholes onto the Stone Age," she said, and Percy grunted in agreement. "I'm glad she's feeling a little better, at least. I want to see her as soon as I can. Is Nico with her?"

"I think so," Percy said with a sigh. "I hope so anyway. Things between them got... complicated recently."

Annabeth arched an eyebrow. She remembered talking to Rachel about her troubles with Nico, but hadn't followed up on the conversation. "Like, romantically complicated?"

Percy made a face. "Yeah. I walked in on them sucking face last week. Definitely wouldn't have expected Rachel to go for him. Nico's such a grump."

She bumped his shoulder with hers playfully. "What's that awful saying you told me you never want to hear again? Opposites...?"

Percy smiled at her, but didn't finish her sentence, turning to glance down at the people walking on the ramp below. Annabeth bit her lip, and moved closer to him so their elbows were touching.

"You know you're going to have to tell me what happened that night eventually, right?" she said quietly, watching him. "Otherwise, I'm going to pry it out of Malcolm and he _loves_ to talk."

Percy shuffled his feet, his hand moving to his back pocket. "Do we have to talk about that now? I mean, you just got back and we're here, and... ah, you know about the ceiling in the concourse, right? How the sky's painted backwards?"

Annabeth narrowed her eyes, and set her coffee cup on the ledge. Percy only ever talked about architecture (or parroted back things _she'd_ already told him) when he was nervous around her; it was a tic she normally found endlessly endearing it, but right now, it was suspicious.

"Okay, spill," she said, shifting her bag on her shoulder. "What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

Percy met her eyes briefly before looking away again, wiping his hand over his face nervously.

"I did some thinking last night. _A lot_ of thinking, actually."

"And we all know how dangerous that is," Annabeth quipped, attempting a joke, but it fell flat on its face.

Her palms started to sweat; all her least favorite conversations with Percy always started with that phrase. He'd been complaining about their long-distance relationship more than usual lately and seven years was a long time to devote someone like her.

Her stomach sank as if it was lead lined.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. He was going to break up with her, she realized. Why, oh why, hadn't she seen this coming?

"I know I've been a shit excuse for a boyfriend lately and after what happened with Rachel, I realized... well... "

Annabeth's cheeks burned with humiliation and she felt the beginnings of angry tears in her eyes. She was barely listening to him as he continued to talk. Oh, she was going to _destroy_ him if he brought her here, of all places and in _public_, to break up with her.

"Anyway, I realized that life is short and our lives are even shorter, and it kind of hit me that I can't keep coasting through our relationship because ... I don't want to lose you. I _can't_ lose you. Maybe it's selfish, but I can't imagine my life without you, Annabeth."

Wait.

_What_?

The rant Annabeth had been preparing in her head ground to a halt and she gaped at her boyfriend.

He'd returned his gaze to her, his face full of the soft devotion she sometimes caught him staring at her with in the early mornings when he thought she was still asleep and he was running his fingers through her hair. Her knees instantly turned to jelly with relief. He wasn't going to break up with her if he was looking at her like that.

So, what _was_ he going to do?

"You're my best friend, you've _always_ been my better half," Percy continued in a rush, "and I love you so much that it feels like I'm drowning when I'm not with you, and trust me, that's the only time I _ever_ feel like that."

"Percy, what... what are saying?" Annabeth asked, her head swimming. Her heart was fluttering like a butterfly trapped in a cage, and for some bizarre reason, she suddenly didn't want Percy to know how sweaty her palms had gotten in the last few moments.

His lips lifted into that trademark trouble making smirk of his, the one that Annabeth knew had ruined all other men for her since she was thirteen years old.

"I'm saying that I think it's time we make things permanent between us, Wise Girl."

Annabeth felt like she'd been punched in the gut by one of Clarisse's more vicious right hooks.

Oh gods, she had been _so_ wrong. How could she have misread the signs so badly? He wasn't breaking up with her. He was — he was —

Percy gently took her left hand in his and, ever so slowly, got down on one knee.

"For future reference," he said bracingly, "I did have a _plan_ for this. You would've been super impressed. There was going to be nice lights and a fancy dinner and a view, and it would've been great — "

"Seaweed Brain," Annabeth choked out, her voice thick, "If you don't ask me right this _second_, I am going to kick your ass so far across this terminal, it'll take me a week to find you again."

He laughed, and pulled a ring out of his back pocket, holding it aloft. The small blue stone glittered in Grand Central Station's light. Annabeth's smile spread so far across her face that it hurt — of course it'd be blue.

"Annabeth Chase," Percy said as he slipped the ring onto her trembling finger, "will you marry me?"


End file.
